


In the Offing

by Escalus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Drinking, Espionage, F/M, Frottage, Gambling, Liolan Week 2020, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Permanent Injury, Slavery, Slow Burn, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escalus/pseuds/Escalus
Summary: During the War of the American Revolution, Liam Dunbar serves as an officer for the Spanish privateer Scott McCall, captain of the  corvetteBaliza.   He pretends to himself that he is content as he is, but his adventurous spirit pushes him to go after something more, even if he doesn't know what more might look like.  He finds himself ensnared in nefarious schemes on both land and sea, and strangely drawn to a midshipman of the Royal Navy, Nolan Holloway.   Will he be an ally or an enemy or ... something more?
Relationships: Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Liam Dunbar/Nolan, Liam Dunbar/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Scott McCall
Comments: 36
Kudos: 20





	1. Ombre

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Liolan Appreciation Week of 2020. Their relationship is endgame for this story, even though both Liam and Nolan might have relationships before hand. 
> 
> While I did research, I'm not claiming anything like historical authenticity. Please let me know about any egregious errors. 
> 
> I do not own the characters of Teen Wolf. This is a homage for enjoyment purposes only.

The longer sailors stay on the sea, the more they come under her sway. In their bones, they come to learn how a ship feels when it’s docked, when it’s at anchor, when it’s under sail, or when it’s under full sail and racing with the wind. Yet while experienced sailors find their footing with each mood, they all come to dislike one feeling above all: the slow roll of an unanchored ship in deep water when there’s not the slightest sigh of wind.

The _Baliza_ drifted along the waves, moving towards the far shores more slowly than a bent old woman could walk. Above its masts, stars covered the sky like candles at a Mass. Somewhere beyond the night-black horizon lay the islands of the Bahamas, tantalizingly out of reach. 

Five bells had just rung into the first watch, and three men sat around a makeshift table, nothing but a large square of lumber set on top of water barrels. Four lanterns had been arranged so they could see by the sliver of moon and the faraway constellation. The rest of the corvette’s crew were below, asleep or trying to get to sleep. 

The captain threw down his cards in disgust and then wiped some sweat off his brow. While they were well into night judging by the progress of the moon, they were still becalmed during a hot July. In the still, sultry atmosphere, he had undone the lacing of his off-white blouse at his throat as far as it could be trying to expose as much as skin as possible to the muggy air. He had pushed up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos covering his arms while yet another could be glimpsed on his chest. His brown locks hung long and wild obscuring the gold rings in each ear, each set with a dark red ruby, companions to the ring in his nose. He had gone barefoot this evening, even though that seemed very uncaptain-like.

“’Tis not my doing that you are terrible at cards.” The first mate seemed in a far better state than his captain. He was bald, as he had the cook shave his head once a week. He bore no ink nor carried any jewelry, yet even the African had dressed lightly in the heat, clad in only a vest and breeches. 

The third man, the boatswain on the _Baliza,_ did not comment on his captain’s skill at ombre, instead he scooped the cards up. He was shorter than the other two, and he wore his light brown hair back in a short tail. He also wore a short beard because the crew ceaselessly teased him that he looked so young if he did not. He wore a blue sailor’s jacket without an undershirt, the brass buttons gleaming in the lanterns, but unlike the other two he still had his shoes and stockings on beneath his breeches. 

“I think we should play another game,” Scott announced, leaning back in his chair.

Boyd laughed at him. “You’re out of gold, captain. You can’t start another game without any gold.”

“Can’t I? Is my first mate about to start a mutiny because I’m fiscally irresponsible?” 

“No, I’m saying you can’t start a new game of ombre without fish to put in the pot.”

“Is my pledge not good enough?”

Boyd lips twisted in merriment. “I’ve sailed with you for five years, captain, and it isn’t. I’m still waiting for that shore leave I was supposed to have in Caracas—”

“That was not my fault!” Scott declared, mock outraged. “Those French frigates came out of nowhere. I promise you’ll get leave in Caracas, someday.”

Boyd crossed his arms in disbelief, then he burst once more into laughter. 

“You wound me, friend. Wounded I am. And parched.” Scott kicked at Liam’s chair. 

Liam took the hint and disappeared below decks. 

The captain looked after the younger man, something wistful in his gaze. 

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Boyd asked, concern dousing his good humor. “The thing I told you not to think about.”

“Boyd …”

“You’ve never stooped to impressing crew, captain. No one’s here because they’re forced to be here, especially Liam.”

Scott looked out across the ocean where the hollow moon reflected off the water. 

“No one on this ship is going to be surprised if they die in blood and fire. Not one expects to live until old age.”

“I know, which is why …” 

“You didn’t choose this life, but we did, all of us. You saved Liam from death at sea, and for that he wants to serve you. Honor that.”

Before Scott could answer, Liam appeared from the galley, carrying a small cask and three cups. Scott took the cask with a grin, broke it open and poured them all around. Scott stretched his cup over the side of the ship and poured out a libation into the water. “For old friends.”

“Old friends!” The other two said in unison.

They sat back down, and Scott shook his head as if he were trying to dislodge melancholy. “We’re stuck out here.”

“The wind’s changing,” Liam promised. “We’ll get underway in the morning.”

Scott brought his cup down on the table, looking at his boatswain. For a moment, sadness passed over his eyes, but then his good spirits returned. “I still think we should play another game.”

“I still think you’re out of gold.”

Liam spoke up. “I’ll take your pledge, captain.”

“See!” Scott pointed at the younger man. “There’s at least one man here with love and respect for his captain.”

“More like I want you to owe me.” Liam winked back.

They played slowly, as the game now mixed with liberal amounts of rum and not a few stories. The trio even forgot, for a moment, the queasy roll of the stranded ship. Scott lost and lost badly; he wasn’t very good at cards. It had to do with the fact that the captain constantly wore his feelings on his face, so even Liam was able to predict what kind of hand he was holding. 

“And we’re done!” Boyd exclaimed. “Liam wins this game.”

Liam took up his glass, still half full with rum. In one gulp, he swallowed it.

Scott exaggerated a sigh, a smile still plastered on his face. “Ahh, too right I’m done. I have no luck tonight. It’s a blessing that I’m not too terrible at commanding a ship, or I’d starve to death.” 

Boyd shook his head and claimed his part of the fish. “You two should get some sleep. I have the first and second watch tonight.” 

Liam gathered up the cards, while Scott put the half-drunk cask on the ground. 

“And how shall I pay back my pledge, Liam?”

Liam made an attempt to make his reply seem casual, but his hand gripped the cup his knuckles turned white. “Perhaps you’d let me sleep in the captain’s cabin tonight?”

Boyd paused only a moment before he returned to his work without comment. 

The captain, his own glass in his hand, studied Liam in the lantern light. His smiled faded a degree, but when he took a drink from his own cup, his smile returned, wide and bright. “I do owe you. Fetch a bucket of water, would you? I’ll meet you there.” 

Stooping, Scott picked up the cask of rum and turned away, heading towards the captain’s cabin. Liam watched him go, swallowing air like it was seawater.

“You didn’t need to be so clever,” Boyd remarked, picking up one of the barrels to return it to where it belonged. “He’s not a priest and this isn’t a churchyard.”

Liam felt himself blush. “Maybe I wanted to be clever.”

Boyd snorted and sat down on one of the chairs. “Aren’t you supposed to be drawing some water?”

“Hey … you’re not mad?” 

The first mate waved him off. “Do me one thing though. Don’t make this more than what it is.”

Liam hurried down to where the fresh water was stored and pulled a bucket. He wasn’t sure why Scott wanted him to bring it, but he wasn’t going to argue tonight. 

The captain’s cabin was located at the aft of the ship and the bucked was heavy, so it seemed like it was going to take forever for Liam to get there. But this was a ship and it didn’t really take him long at all. The door was hanging open, and there was at least one lantern on. Liam stood there, breathing heavily for no reason he could think of, when Scott called out. “Well, come in already.”

Scott was sitting at the short table, cup in hand and half in shadow, waiting for him. He wasn’t smiling; instead, he had a strange and thoughtful look upon his face. “Hey.”

Liam put the bucket down at his feet. It felt like the right thing to do. “Captain.”

“So, this is new.”

“No, sir, it’s not.” Liam suddenly found the open windows in the cabin more interesting than looking anywhere at captain. “I’ve always admired you.” 

“I don’t think you should call me ‘sir.’ Not tonight at least. But … don’t you have a girl on St. Thomas?” 

Liam nodded shallowly. “Hayden. She runs a tavern there, but she’s made it clear she doesn’t want a man she only sees three or four times a year.” He clasped his hands behind his back in order to get them out of the way. He was strangely pleased that Scott paid that much attention to his life.

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

“I love the sea too much, sir … I mean, Scott. Can we not talk about her?”

The captain laughed. “Sorry.” He poured another cup for Liam, push himself out of the chair, and handed it to Liam. “Your request surprised me. What put such a thought in your head?”

“I’ve seen you with Boyd.” 

“I guess we weren’t as discreet as I thought we were. Boyd and I … what we want we can’t have, but we’re not content to be monks. Sometimes it’s simply better not to be alone.” Scott refilled his own glass. 

“No one on this ship cares. I asked for this because I want it. See this jacket?” Liam touched the faded blue material of the sleeve. He was proud that it had only slight tear, carefully mended and that it retained all its buttons.

“Yeah.” The captain chuckled and touched the shoulder. “I’ve noticed that you always wear it, even when it is too fucking hot. Don’t you have a shirt?”

“You gave me this jacket the day you pulled me out of the sea, after the Battle of Grenada. I’d rather wear it than anything else.”

Scott’s eyes softened at the confession. He turned back to the table and picked up both a cloth and a vial. “Well, tonight, you should take if off.” 

Liam slid the jacket off and laid it on a nearby chair. Scott opened the vial and allowed four drops of its contents to fall into the bucket. A powerful, flowery scent spread which Liam couldn’t quite place. 

Scott knelt next to Liam, while dipping the cloth into the water. His eyes slid down Liam’s bare chest. “I’m very glad I pulled you from the water, and not only for tonight. You know that, don’t you?” Gently, he ran the cloth up Liam’s arm.

“I know.” 

His touch felt good as Liam had imagined it. The water cooled his skin, as the oppressive heat had hardly diminished since the coming of night, and, even now, not a single breeze wafted through the aft windows. Yet, the goosebumps on his skin weren’t only on the cold water, Scott was methodical, exploring as he cleaned. 

Scott’s hand dropped away and Liam realized that he had finished washing all of his exposed skin. Fumbling, Liam kicked off his shoes and divested himself as quickly as he could of his pants and his stockings. This wasn’t the first time he had been nude in front of another man, but it was the first time he had removed all his clothes while he was hard as a rock and willing to make use of it. He nearly fell over but Scott reached out a hand and steadied him.

It was so gentle, Liam stopped breathing. 

His captain began to wash him again, stopping only to freshen the cloth. It felt like it went on for hours, but it might have been five minutes at most, but then Scott’s head darted forward and took Liam into his mouth. It was impulsive and Liam gave a little gasp. He put a hand in the tangled mass of his captain’s hair. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back in pleasure.

Too soon, Scott pulled off his cock before Liam exploded. The other man stood up with one motion and pulled his own shirt over his head. He handed the cloth to Liam and then shucked his breeches off like it was nothing. “Feel good?” Liam nodded. “My turn.”

Liam had dreamed about seeing this once or twice, of seeing all the captain’s tattoos at once. Scott stood there without shame, body leaned and toned, arms hanging loose, as Liam got to work. He’d been close to the captain while hauling on lines, he’d been pressed up against him when they were in the middle of a desperate fight, but those times had been full of strain and fire and danger. Now Liam ran his hands down the curve of his stomach and punched muscles of his legs, tracing the patterns of ink with the soaking cloth. He wasn’t as careful washing Scott as Scott had been him. Water pooled on the floor; Liam glanced down at it.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re on a ship.” Scott smirked. “It’s not like you’re going to sink us.” 

He was trying to lighten things up. Liam tossed the cloth to the side, and then stretched up his head to kiss the other man. They were both naked, both aroused yet somehow it caught Scott by surprise anyway. He didn’t pull away, and once he recovered from his shock, he returned it with passion. When they broke apart, the captain took him by the hand and led him to the bed.

Guiding him gently but firmly, Scott lay Liam down on his back and then climbed on top of him. They kissed again, Scott leaving Liam’s lip only to leave tender bites on his neck. For the briefest second, Liam felt trapped as Scott’s weight settle on top of him, body pressed to body. He realized he was lying passively and that would not do at all. He reached his arms around and pulled Scott down closer slotting their bodies together from head to foot. The heat of their bodies coming together was precisely different than the heat of the day. 

They began to push their bodies against each other in the night, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, sometimes breathing the air from each other’s longs, sometimes gripping each other as if they wanted to tear the other apart and climb inside. They begin to lose their patience, their bodies rubbing harder and harder against each other, the evoked passion overriding any sense of art or play. Liam release first, drawing a breathy shout from his lips and Scott follows soon after, a soft contented sigh.

They don’t know who falls asleep first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In the Offing_ means something likely to happen soon, but it comes from a nautical term meaning the part of the ocean that can be seen from land but is not close to it. In other words, on the horizon. 
> 
> _Baliza_ is Spanish for 'Beacon.'
> 
>  _Ombre_ is a Spanish card game for three players. Archaically, the money in the pot was called "fish."


	2. St. Augustine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introduced to Midshipman Nolan Holloway of the Royal Navy as he introduces himself to his new command. On the _Baliza_ , Liam ignores Boyd's warning to his regret.

Nolan Holloway lifted his chin as stared into the mirror. He stood in the master bedroom of his uncle’s house, because his uncle hadn’t wanted to risk moving the indescribable extravagance — for the colonies, at least — of a full length mirror. For what felt like the hundredth time, he straightened the white-and-gold buttons of his jacket; he didn’t quite understand why he was so nervous. He had been an able seaman for four years, during which he had served on the flagship of Sir Henry Park, a Rear Admiral of the Blue. He hadn’t actually seen any action, and while the war to quell the revolution in the colonies burned in the North, pirates and privateers continued to make these waters dangerous. Yet even so — this meeting would be about a simple appointment to a new ship; there was no reason to be nervous.

With obsessive determination, he picked at lint almost too small for the eye to see, but to him, it stood out like a damning stain in the deep blue of his midshipman’s jacket’s reflection. He fussed at his clothes, at his hair, at his shoes for what seemed like hours, until finally one of his uncles’ servants came in and reminded him that he would have to leave immediately if he wanted to get to his appointment on time.

Nolan ended up hurrying through the streets of St. Augustine; luckily, the wind had shifted to the west, dropping the temperature to tolerable levels, though he often had to hold his black cocked hat on his head when struck by a particularly strong gust. His time on the sea had given him a weather eye; the city was in for a terrible storm, crossing Florida from the Gulf of Mexico on the other side of the peninsula. Nolan figured by the shape of the clouds that he had enough time to get his destination, but he’d never make it back to his uncle’s house before the storm hit.

The Molinero Anchorage had once been the residence of a former Spanish governor of Florida until the Treaty of Paris in 1763 had surrendered the colony to the Crown of Britain. Commodore Argent had taken possession of the place when he had first arrived, and now it was more connected to his family than to any other.

Swallowing a large lump in his throat, Nolan knocked on the door of the Anchorage. A small child, perhaps eight or nine and most likely one of the Argent family’s slaves, immediately opened the door, as if he had been waiting to do just that. 

“I’m Nolan Holloway. Commodore Argent is expecting me.”

Wordlessly, the child nodded and obediently led him back through the house. Within the walls of the house, silence reigned in rooms covered in dust. Curtains choked off exterior sunlight. It felt more like a mausoleum than a place where people actually lived, which, on reflection, wasn’t strange. Nolan had heard that the commodore had lost a daughter, a daughter-in-law, and a granddaughter in the last few years, and he was estranged from his only son. In keeping with the unnatural stillness, keepsakes hung in the hallways, locked behind glass in cabinets and trophies and mounted carefully upon the wall. 

The child opened a door filling the hallways with light. It must be the rumored solarium at the back of the house. With horror, Nolan stopped short of the door, for the illumination drew his eye to a display mounted on the wall next to the door. Framed and protected by heavy glass, someone had curated a collection of human teeth. On the tiny wooden plaque beneath were the words “The Wages of Sin are Death.” He gaped; why would someone mount a trophy like that in their home? To give himself a moment, he checked to see if his hat was tucked firmly under his arm, he pulled at his collar, and then forced himself to stand up straight. 

The child slave looked back up at him expectantly, the first bit of emotion that the boy had shown. “In here, sir.”

Stepping inside confirmed what his first glimpse had told him; the solarium was vastly different from the rest of the house. Its ceilings and its walls were made of heavy glass, which allowed so much sunlight in that Nolan had to blink after the dimness of the rest of the mansion. Along the walls and in carefully tended plots, various flowers and bushes grew, transplanted here from all over the world — English roses, French lilies, Dutch tulips, rarer plants from India, from China, from New Spain, even some plants from the rebellious colonies. 

In the center of all this greenery, on a slightly raised platform, stood an elegant white table with three matching chairs. The remains of the mid-day meal still rested upon it, served in silver and crystal. It was beautiful and peaceful, spoiled only by the presence of a man at the end of the table.

In a sturdy wheelchair, Commodore Gerard Argent sat, brooding over some papers he gripped in his hand. To anyone’s eyes, he would have seemed near death. His skin was sallow and sat loose on his bones, and even in a room filled with the world’s flowers, Nolan could smell the sharp tang of blood and the bitter odor of medicine. 

In a voice so rough that it was barely understandable, the commodore spoke to where Nolan was standing a step inside the doorway. “Come closer.” 

Nolan stilled the tremor in his hands. He wasn’t intruding; after all, he had been asked to come here. “Sir. Midshipman Holloway reporting.”

“I find you’ve been recently promoted, Mr. Holloway. Congratulations.” Gerard spoke slowly and with more clarity, though it cost in effort. Standing before him, Nolan had to revise his opinion of the commodore. While his body seemed but three breaths from the grave, his eyes were sharp, calculating, and utterly without pity.

“Thank you, sir.”

The old man opened his mouth to speak again but he was seized with a coughing fit. It tore at him, painful and long, leaving Nolan wondering what if anything he should be doing. Blood worked into a froth spilled from the commodore’s lips, and he took a linen napkin to clean it away. Pain ravaged his face and his limbs trembled with weakness, but he caught Nolan’s eye while bringing down the cloth. He shot him a look filled with such venom that Nolan had to take a step back.

“My apologies,” the old man gritted out, resentfully. 

“No need, sir. I’m sorry that you’re ill.” 

“He’s not ill.” The new voice belonged to a black woman who approached the table from somewhere that was outside of Nolan’s vision; she carried herself like no servant would and, despite her race, she looked Nolan right in the eye. “He was wounded in battle with privateers.” 

Commodore Argent growled in affirmation. “Tell him all of it, Tamora.”

“During a conflict with the Spanish privateer _Baliza_ and during rough seas, their captain cut through the grappling lines that tied his vessel to His Majesty’s Ship, the _Kanima._ While this enabled the privateer to get away, it also caused a boom to fall amidships, crushing the Commodore’s chest. As you can see, he survived, but he has trouble breathing, talking and walking.” The woman’s voice seemed strangely sympathetic, not in the sense of pitying the poor man, but rather in the sense of sharing anger at the situation.

“I’m quite sorry to hear that, sir.” Nolan stared in fascination as the woman, without introducing herself, helped clean the old man up. Without flinching, she rinsed the bloody cloth in a bowl. 

The old man brushed off his condolences, with a fretful wave. 

With things shipshape, the woman turned to regard him once again. “You might wonder why I tell you this. You’ve been assigned to the Commodore’s squadron, so it’s important that you understand the history of our struggle. It will help you with your first mission.”

“Me, sir?” Nolan stuttered and stammered. “I mean, ma’am, I mean …”

The woman smiled at him, encouragingly. “You may use ma’am for now. I am, after all, a freedwoman, and we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other, Nolan. May I call you by your Christian name for now?” 

There was something strange in how she talked, but for the time being, he didn’t see any reason not to be polite. “Of course, ma’am.” 

Gerard chuckled and reached for a glass of water. 

“I … I’m looking forward to serving.” Nolan wished he had a glass of water. He hadn’t expected to feel so much like a cow at the butcher’s. “You said you had a mission for me? Shall I be serving on the _Kanima?”_

“No, though you will be taking a voyage on the _Kanima._ The commodore’s son, the _Kanima’s_ captain, will take you to St. Thomas, where you’ll deliver an offer to the captain of the _Baliza_ the next time he makes port. It shouldn’t be too long, though you’ll be well supplied with coin for however long you have to stay there.”

Nolan goggled in confusion. “Uhm. Can I … may I ask what the offer is?”

Gerard Argent smiled at him, teeth bloody. “A letter of marque.”

“Doesn’t he sail under the Spanish flag?” Nolan looked at both of them. “That means he already has one; why would he need another?”

“He does, but the Spanish are notoriously uncaring about the lives of their privateers.” The woman smiled and poured a glass of water and approached him. “The British are far more respectful of the people who come to work for us. On the other hand, I think that Captain McCall will undoubtedly refuse to serve under the commodore, but the offer has to be made.”

Nolan accepted the water and drank some to cover his desire to be anywhere but here. This sounded like espionage. He wanted to serve on a ship, not be a spy. But orders were orders. “Why me?”

The woman gestured at him. “Because you’re an up-and-coming officer of the Royal Navy, yet here you have earned no grudges that might get in the way. The offer will be far more welcome from you than anyone else. Complete this mission, and you’ll rejoin the squadron here at St. Augustine. Succeed, and I know you will, and you’ll serve on its flagship.”

That news sounded far more like what he had wanted to hear when he came to this strange place. “On the _Phobos,_ ma’am?” Nolan’s gaze turned to the docks, barely visible through the glass, where the brand-new third-rate 64-gun frigate _HMS Phobos_ lay waiting at anchor. She was said to be one of the finest ships to be christened in decades; the Argent family had spared no expense to make it so. 

“You’ll be serving …” The commodore coughed. “… under Captain Monroe.” 

Nolan saluted. “Aye, sir, though I’ve not heard of him.”

“That’s fine, Nolan.” The black woman laughed, amused. “No one else has heard of me, either. But together, you and I will sweep this ocean clean of pirates and privateers and all the scum like them. Welcome aboard.”

**~*~**

Liam awoke with his face buried in the captain’s hair. He was behind and a little under Scott on the bed, their bodies pressed together and the sheets tangled together around their hips. The captain’s cabin traditionally had a real bed with a goose-down-filled tick and everything. The rest of the officers made do with bunks, and the seamen used hammocks. It was luxurious, and Liam had fought falling asleep simply to experience the comfort for a little longer.

Scott’s hair smelled of rum and some unidentifiable spice. It was comforting in a way, even though he had to spit out a few hairs. He did it as gently as he could feel from the arm casually thrown over the other man’s body, the rise and fall of Scott’s chest. Liam had woken up with other people in his arms before, but it had never been someone like the captain. 

Liam felt no shame admitting what he had come to feel for his captain ever since the day the captain had been pulled from the ocean. Scott had sailed for a different king, and he hadn’t even been involved in the battle which had seen Liam tossed overboard. No one would have blamed a Spanish privateer if he had let an English sailor drown. But Scott hadn’t only pulled Liam from the water, he had been kind, asking after Liam’s health, his family, his posting; tending to his wounds personally; and giving him a jacket to make sure he was warm.

It wasn’t just the captain’s gentleness. Liam had seen the rage burn in Scott’s eyes at the cruelty of others. When the master of the _Baliza_ had come across the victims of the vicious pirate Sebastian Valet and his monstrous vessel, _La Bête,_ they had engaged in a three-month struggle that consisted of several running battles, as the smaller Spanish frigate had harried the 76-gun renegade French ship-of-the-line until they had finally managed to sink her in a battle on the high seas, two hundred miles south of Bermuda.

Scott was more than a friend and a ship’s master; he was Liam’s hero.

For the longest time, Liam had been content to show his admiration by working as hard as he could, and he had succeeded. He had gone from castaway to boatswain in two years, but it wasn’t enough. While he pretended to be suave and confident last night, his heart had almost burst with long-restrained feeling and now … he ran his hand down Scott’s side. The captain stirred in his sleep a bit and Liam put a kiss on his shoulder blade. 

Faintly, in the distance, Liam heard the snap of wind in the canvas, and Boyd’s voice rousing the hands to get them underway. The doldrums had broken, just as Liam had promised the captain last night. He should get up. It’d be his watch, and he should be the one giving the orders out there. Yet he didn’t want to move, not from this place, not now, not for many hours.

A fey spirit overtook him. “I love you,” he spoke into the silence of the cabin. 

“Oh,” Scott’s voice was sleepy, but he had heard. Liam bit his lip in embarrassment. Shifting in the bed, the captain turned around, until they were face to face. “Oh, no, Liam. Don’t say that.”

“But I do.”

The captain sighed. “You shouldn’t. I don’t have anything to give you, Liam. At least, nothing that will last.” He placed a kiss on the man’s forehead. “Nothing more than nights like this, and as fine as they are, they’re nothing to build a future on.”

Liam was a man, not a child, but he felt crushed, as crushed as when he watched his parents standing on the dock as he sailed away. “I don’t need more.”

“I can’t tell you what you need; I only know that I’ve had more. Three times, I’ve loved someone the way you deserved to be loved. One of them died in my arms, one of them is trapped on the other side of the world, and the third was bewitched by her own father. I don’t …” 

“You don’t have to do anything.” 

“You deserve more, Liam. I’ve had my chances, and I’ve lost them. I won’t take them from you.” He placed another kiss on Liam’s cheek. “You deserve someone of your own.” 

With a nod, Liam slid off the bed. “I need to go relieve Boyd.” He could feel the captain’s eyes follow him from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were black captains (Captain John Perkins is the most famous) and women on board Royal Navy ships in the eighteenth century, so while a black freedwoman as captain is a stretch, it is not pure fantasy. 
> 
> Phobos was the Greek god of fear and terror, the son of Ares and Aphrodite.


	3. St. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nolan tracks down the crew of the _Baliza_. Sinister deeds conspire to make Liam and Nolan travelling companions.

The Punching Maiden Inn possessed two distinct characters depending on whether the sun was in the sky. During the day, the common people of St. Thomas — both dock workers and craftsmen — would wander in and out for meals or even to simply talk with their colleagues out of the heat. During the night, the crowd consisted mostly of men from the berthed ships, and they were a far rowdier lot. 

They didn’t get too rowdy, because the woman who ran the bar, a spitfire by the name of Hayden Romero, didn’t tolerate things getting out of hand. Everyone in town had heard of at least one fight she had broken up by herself, most likely by kicking the ass of everyone involved. She also insisted that the ship captains of the crews involved pay for any damages to her inn out of their own pocket. Consequently, it was known as a safer place to meet than most.

Nolan had been a guest of the inn for a week and some days. During that time, he had learned the best time to get breakfast, how to avoid the dinner rush, and when to avoid eating there entirely since Hayden’s cook often went overboard on the spices. He still had plenty of the Argent’s coin left, so he wasn’t in desperate financial circumstance yet. He was bored though.

Unfortunately, waiting was an inescapable part of the mission. Spanish privateers didn’t inform the Admiralty of their itineraries. St. Thomas was the free port that the _Baliza_ visited the most, according to the sources. He had to be patient. 

The trip from St. Augustine on Captain Argent’s ship had calmed Nolan a bit after the rather upsetting meeting with the crippled Commodore Argent and the intense Captain Monroe. Performing duties for which he had been trained on a navy vessel would have been far more reassuring than espionage. On the other hand, Captain Argent was a much different person than his father, and while he remained remote, as most captains did, he did go a long way in helping Nolan reconcile himself to his task. Nolan hadn’t managed the courage to tell him about the details of the mission, but Captain Argent had nothing but sympathy for anyone forced to endure his father’s presence.

Once on shore, the anxiety over what he was doing returned with a vengeance. He couldn’t call himself a diplomat because the Commodore and Captain Monroe had been sure that the offer would be rejected. He couldn’t call himself a spy, because he wasn’t doing any spying. The only thing he could call himself was a pawn.

He should have just signed onto a merchantman, he told himself, rather than join the military. He had wanted to be a sailor, to rise in the ranks and maybe, one day, be captain of his own ship. But when he had told his family of his wish, they had transformed it into a chance for him to win glory for their family as a member of the Royal Navy. His protests had been drowned out, and he had found himself serving reluctantly on war ships. He had since made his peace with that event. Yet now, it was even more clear. 

This was not what he wanted.

At least the climate of St. Thomas was pleasant enough and the company amiable. He stared blankly at pages of a book he had picked up from one of the vendors. It was a _Life of Robert Carr._ Reading helped pass the time. 

“Well, Master Holloway, I have good news for you!” Hayden Romero sat down across from him without asking, which was just her style. 

“Your cook’s run out of horse-eye jack?” The man put that particular fish in everything, and Nolan found it a taste he did not favor.

“No. At least two more days worth of it left,” she winked at him. Few complaints put her off her stride. “Your wait is about to end. A rider came in from East End. The _Baliza_ is making port today.” 

In his eagerness, he slammed the book shut. “It’s about time.” He was thrilled, but he also felt like he was about to throw up. “How shall I best present myself, do you think?”

“Stay right where you are. The crew always comes here the night after they dock. I’ll introduce you.”

“You would? How kind of you, Miss Romero.”

She flashed him a smile. “You’ve given me enough of your gold, and I’m a very good judge of character, so I don’t think you’re an assassin. If you were going to try to apprehend Captain McCall and his crew, you would be in need of more men. That being so, I think that introductions might be good for business.”

“What’s the captain like?”

“I know him well, and I like him. He doesn’t seem to have the same chip on his shoulder most other privateers do.” She shook her head sadly. “It could be familiarity, for I’ve seen him a lot more often than other captains. That’s only because I was being wooed by his boatswain.”

“Oh?”

“I hope you get to meet Liam. I think you two would get along.”

Nolan’s brows came together. Did she really think he’d get along with a privateer? “Why ever would you think that?”

Hayden smirked and left to see to another table without answering. 

He looked down at himself. He was dressed in civilian clothes, and he didn’t think that would do at all. He went up to his room, bathed himself, and put on his midshipman’s uniform. It was spotlessly clean. He had made sure of it. 

The nightly crowd at the Punching Maiden had grown used to Nolan’s appearance in his uniform. Now, nearly half of them should have recognized that he was wearing a midshipman’s uniform and not a lieutenant’s uniform, but that didn’t matter much to the humor of the crowd.

“Lieutenant!” half the room cried as he came down the stairs. He had stopped blushing so deeply, but he could feel his cheeks pink. It had not been very effective to try to remind them that he wasn’t a lieutenant. Instead, he took their ribbing in good humor.

Hayden met him at the base of the stairs and steered him over to one of the harbor-side tables, all while carrying a platter of drinks. Three men sat at the table, recently starting on their meal, but they all looked up at the pair as they approached. The Spaniard sitting in the middle was most likely Captain McCall, cutting into a slab of mutton with a knife. He laughed at a joke the African sitting to his right told with great gusto. To the captain’s left was another man, shorter, possibly English, with light brown hair. Nolan noticed he had piercing eyes the same color as the ocean under a stormy sky. 

“Captain?” Hayden placed the drinks in front of the dark haired man. 

The Spaniard looked up and smiled. “I suppose I am. What can I do for you, Hayden?” 

“I promised someone I would introduce the two of you. This is Nolan Holloway of the Royal Navy.”

Nolan stepped forward with the best, cheerful countenance he could muster, though he also, suddenly, felt like he was sweating too much. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

Hayden laughed out loud at Nolan. “Captain, he’s like that. He’s a good bloke.” 

“Well, friend, let’s see if the pleasure lasts. Why does Midshipman Holloway of the Royal Navy want to meet me?” Captain McCall gestured to a seat. “This is my First Mate, Vernon Boyd, and my Boatswain, Liam Dunbar.” 

“Oh.” Nolan glanced at the man with the beautiful eyes, who also looked like he was about to punch someone.

“Oh?” Liam demanded. “Oh what?”

Hayden put her hands on her hips. “Liam! I told him that he would like you. You’re so snappish sometimes.” She shook her head, smiling. 

Nolan watched as Liam’s face suddenly blushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Master Holloway. Would you sit down?”

“Yes. Sit.” Captain McCall tossed Hayden a coin in thanks and she winked at all of them before leaving. “Why were you looking for us?”

“I was given a mission by my commanding officer, captain,” Nolan began. He dug into his coat and pulled up the sealed letter. “He wanted me to make you an offer.”

“An offer? From the English?”

“I know that this is going to sound unusual, but this is a letter of marque from the Crown of England.” 

The three members of the _Baliza_ ’s crew were frankly stunned into silence. Finally, Captain McCall took the paper, but didn’t break the seal. “Even if Spain wasn’t at war with Britain, I would still be surprised. I haven’t had the best relationship with the Royal Navy.”

Boyd snickered, the first time he had made a noise, “You could say that again. Perhaps they’re tired of losing to you?”

“I was told to say that the Crown would like to recognize your efforts against pirates, particularly your defeat of the notorious Captain Valet.”

The captain’s elation faded as if someone had dumped a bucked of cold water on him. “That’s very kind of … whoever made that decision, but I don’t want a reward for defeating Valet. I should have gotten it done earlier. Too many …”

“You’re a privateer,” scolded Boyd, “not a martyr. No one else managed to even slow _La Bête_ down, so perhaps you could stop feeling guilty and accept the reward. I know I’d feel a lot better with protection from both sides of a war.”

Liam had been staring at Nolan but then spoke up. “Who’s your commanding officer, Master Holloway?”

“Oh. I serve under Commodore Argent.” Nolan spoke without thinking. He had been gone for so long from St. Augustine that he had forgotten the story of how the old man had come into his present state. “I joined his command but two weeks ago.”

The immediate transformation in the crew across from Nolan was immediate, very palpable, and not a little bit intimidating. Liam got out of his seat and moved directly behind him. The boatswain was checking him for weapons.

Boyd stood up so quickly, he pushed his chair back with an audible screech. His hand dropped to the hilt of the dirk in his belt. Nolan felt that he was going to be stabbed if he moved to quickly.

The smile had vanished from Captain McCall’s face. He didn’t seem as aggressive as his ship mates, but he was studying Nolan with a cooler eye. “Did the Commodore tell you about his history with me?”

“Uh … uh …” Nolan reached out for a cup of wine, only to feel Liam’s breath on the back of his neck and Boyd’s eyes never leave his hand. “He did explain that he was injured in a fight with you. He didn’t think you would accept the reward, but …” He remembered what Captain Monroe had said. “The offer had to be made.”

“Ahhh. The good Commodore most likely left out a great deal from his story. How he holds me to blame for the death of his granddaughter. How he enjoyed torturing me and my blood brother. How he tried to seize a Spanish port before the Treaty of Aranjuez and force privateers to do it for them by threatening their loved ones.” Scott frowned. “He may not have been as ruthless a murderer as Sebastian Valet, but he could give that devil a run for his money. The only reason I don’t do the same to him as I did to the master of _La Bête_ is the respect I have for his son.”

Nolan felt a hand grip his shoulder. 

“I … sir, I meant no offense. This was the task I was given. I didn’t know the details of your past.”

“Which is probably why he sent you. Well, you’ve come —”

Nolan couldn’t see Liam behind him but he could feel his vigorous movement. Scott’s eyes widened. “I don’t think—” The movement continued, even harder. 

The captain of the _Baliza_ sighed. “Lieutenant …”

“Midshipman,” Nolan offered automatically and then blushed. 

“Midshipman Holloway, would you be so kind as to wait here, at least for a small time? I’d like to discuss the news you have delivered with my crew.”

**~*~**

Hayden had a few private dining rooms for a little extra gold. The members of the _Baliza_ ’s crew commandeered one of them without spending more money, as they weren’t eating there. Boyd was the first to enter, and he pulled out a chair. He looked at it before deciding not to sit down. “It’s a _trap!_ ”

“I know it’s a trap,” Scoot put both hands on Boyd’s shoulders and rubbed them. He didn’t like it when his officers were tense. “It’s so obvious a trap that a blind man could see it coming.” 

Liam groaned. “You’ve spent too much time listening to Deucalion.”

The captain rapped Liam softly on the back of the head. “Deucalion would say the same thing if he were here. There’s no way Gerard Argent believes that this ploy will work. So what is his real goal?”

His first mate crossed his arms, angrily. “Captain, I know what you’re thinking. The best thing to do is walk away.”

“Would you walk away?”

“Yes! He’s playing to your weakness, captain. He knows you won’t be able to bring yourself to ignore his plans just like you weren’t able to prevent yourself from hunting La Bete.”

Liam had been standing silent, listening to the argument, his eyes focused on the ground. “I’ll go back with Nolan.” 

Both Boyd and Scott turned to look at him, answering in unison. “No.”

“The captain’s right, Commodore Argent has something else in play, and it has to be more sophisticated than this, which is like dangling a bag of gold over a pit. It won’t be safe to ignore it, because he’s expecting you to reject the offer. But Boyd’s right, too. He’s got to think you’ll try to figure out his plan. If I go and claim the letter of marque, we’ll work both sides and maybe surprise him. We can find out what he’s really up to while not giving him a shot at you.”

The captain put his hands on his hips, his brow wrinkling in frustration. “Or he will throw you in prison.”

“He will absolutely throw you in prison, Liam.” Boyd’s frown deepens if that were possible. “And then you’d become another trap. We’d come for you, and Gerard has to know that.”

“Commodore or not, he has to have a reason to put me in prison. I joined the crew after you defeated him.”

Scott shakes his head. “Exactly. You’re my crew. That’s all the reason he needs”

Liam stormed away from them, though he went no farther than the side table. He picked up one of the mugs of wine they had brought in with them, and drained it completely. “Then let me take the risk and prove my loyalty.”

“You don’t—” Scott began.

“This is a threat to you and to the ship. It’s a threat to everyone who sails for you. We have to do something, so you have to let me do this.” Liam pointed at both of them. “What will we do instead? Sail the ocean wondering when the _Kanima’s_ going to surprise us? Give up?”

“If I have to?” Scott crossed his arms. “Yes. I’ll scuttle the _Baliza_ and become a farmer. I’m not sacrificing you for what might simply be Gerard screwing with us.”

“It’s not a sacrifice if I win, and it might save all of us.” Liam took a step forward, and being shorter, looked up into Scott’s eyes. “Let me go with Nolan Holloway. Hell, the old man might be so surprised he drops dead.” 

Scott looked at Boyd who frowned, obviously not liking what he was hearing, but liking even less that he didn’t have an answer.

“So start from the beginning and tell me your plan again.” The captain sighed. “Convince me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Treaty of Aranjuez of 1779 brought Spain into the American Revolutionary War on the side of France and the colonies.


	4. South of Charlotte Amalie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left alone, Liam and Nolan start to get to know each other. They pay a visit to some of Liam's other friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: The Trans-Atlantic slave trade is discussed in this chapter. It was brutal beyond imagining and this story will not shy away from discussing it and its associated horrors. In addition, mental illness had a significant stigma in the eighteenth century. Liam recounts being ashamed of his I.E.D.

The _Baliza_ shrank from sight as it escaped from the harbor of St. Thomas under full sail. Liam felt something knot up in his chest as the setting sun entangled itself in its rigging. He had always made it a point to be high up in the ropes whenever they got underway. Boyd had asked him once why he did that, and the only answer Liam could give him was that it felt like a promise to protect his home.

Today, his home was leaving without him.

For three years, a place on that corvette had been all that he had needed. He had had plenty of time to return to his parents’ home in Delaware if he had wanted to; Scott had promised to take him there after he had recovered from the ordeal at being lost at sea if he asked. He had had plenty of time to return to the Royal Navy if he had wanted to, but he had never felt comfortable among the sailors from London and Liverpool. His heart had carved a new place for itself among this crew, these men he knew by name, and the captain whom he had grown to respect and love. 

So he asked himself why he was standing on this dock watching all of them leave without him. 

Seeking to distract himself, he scratched at his side under the jacket. He wasn’t about to burst into tears, not with Midshipman Nolan Holloway standing next to him, looking like a beribboned dandy ready to parade in front of King George III. 

Liam felt anger bubble up under his skin. He hadn’t felt this way since he was a child and had been riddled with uncontrolled rages. “How long do we have?”

Nolan nearly jumped out of his skin and had to catch his hat with one hand before it could fall of his head. “You startled me! Beg pardon?”

“How long do we have?”

“How long do we have until…?”

“Your ship takes us to St. Augustine?”

“Oh. Oh, yes.” Nolan glanced around him. “I don’t know.”

Liam felt his eyes bug out a little bit. “You don’t know?”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be coming back with me and since I have plenty of coin, I thought to hire passage on the next ship going that direction. I don’t see any reason to change that plan; I have enough silver to bring you with me.”

The words tumbled out of Nolan’s mouth, sounding defensive and apologetic at the same time. Liam should have felt his rage increase but instead it sort of dissipated. He felt the same as when he had discovered that his dog had destroyed his father’s slippers only for the puppy to have looked up at him with the shredded cloth still in its mouth, and Liam had smile at the dog instead.

Liam crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you know who to talk to in Charlotte Amalie?”

“Not particularly, no.” 

“Then … I suppose I can help with that.”

Nolan nodded pleasantly. 

“You’re very confident, aren’t you?” Liam demanded, incredulous at the other man’s attitude.

“Do I give that impression? Oh, my, no. I’m not confident at all.” Nolan snatched his hat off his head in agitation. “In fact, I’m very commonly on the edge of absolute panic.”

“Yet you’ve successfully come to a Dutch port with no knowledge of how we would take your offer and with no clear idea how you would leave, or even if we would let you leave.”

Nolan nodded pleasantly once again.

“Tell me how that works.”

“It doesn’t require confidence in oneself. It requires a great deal of faith in the wisdom of one’s superiors, I have to say,” Nolan replied cheerily. “If I believe that they sent me out here to do a job that falls within their estimate of my abilities, I really have no choice but to strive to complete it even though I am constantly worrying that I will make a cock out of everything.”

Liam stared at him. 

Nolan offered a slight, depreciating smile. “One gets used to the contradictions. You manage what you can, when you can. Would you like to go have something to eat? I didn’t eat before seeing the _Baliza_ off, and I’m quite famished.”

They found a coffeehouse with a wonderful view of the harbor. Liam had never been to this particular one before, but Nolan had explained that he had found it on his travels around the city.

“Charlotte Amalie is surprisingly pleasant, even if the Dutch are technically at war with my county.” Nolan placed some pastries and two cups of coffee in front of them. “No one has tried to arrest me yet.”

“How did you get here?”

“Oh, the _Kanima_ brought me ashore on a dinghy a bit outside of the harbor and I walked here.” 

“You’re confusing me, midshipman.”

“Call me Nolan, as I think we shall be spending quite a bit of time together.”

“You’re confusing me, Nolan. For someone who just admitted to me that you’re constantly worried, you seem awfully brave.”

Nolan blushed. “Oh, that’s not a right impression at all. Bravery implies a choice. One of the reasons I joined the Royal Navy …” The midshipman stuttered. “One of the reasons I joined the Royal Navy was that I am very, very comfortable with someone telling me what to do.”

Liam tilted his head to the side. “You’re lying.”

“I dare say I am not.”

“You _are._ ”

“Precisely why do you think I’m lying?”

“No one likes to be told what to do!”

“That’s obviously not true, and I think you would agree if you give it some real thought. I wanted to see the world, I think you can understand that.”

Liam nodded. There was a time when he was a child when it was all he could think about. 

“All the different lands and different places. Africa. The Far East.” Nolan took a deep breath. “But I’m not the type of person to come up with a plan to do that on my own volition — I dislike making any decision more important than what type of jam to have with my biscuits. On any ship, you do what the captain tells you, yet you still get to see the world.”

“Ah! I’m right!” Liam pointed at him as if he figured something out. “You did lie!”

The midshipman looked offended. 

“You wanted to go on a ship, but you never said you wanted to join the Navy!”

Nolan pursed his lips. 

“I don’t know why you did it, but you didn’t want to enlist any more than I did. Wanting to be on a ship is not the same as wanting to be on a warship.” Liam had become so carried away with himself he forgot he wasn’t supposed to share that particular piece of information.

“You …” Nolan looked surprised. “Are you a deserter?”

“To be honest, I’m not quite sure.” Liam shrugged. “It was a mutual parting of the ways.”

“You were drummed out?”

“Blown overboard during a battle and left to drift at sea. Captain McCall found me.”

“Oh.”

“I owe him far more than I ever owed His Majesty.” 

Nolan gave a half-hearted shocked expression, shrugged, and then took another bite of his pastry. “My family has high hopes for me in the service.”

Liam held his breath; he understood that more than anything else Nolan had said. “You didn’t though. You joined because of them, not because you wanted to.”

“It was not that big a sacrifice. You shouldn’t disappoint your family if you can avoid it, yes?” 

With a sigh, Liam picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Yes.” He had disappointed his family often and profoundly; they were better with him gone. 

They both reached for the last pastry at the same time. Nolan gestured for Liam to have it, but Liam pushed it at him.

“You paid for it.”

“Yes, but I have extra money, so there’s a very good reason for me to make sure you’re happy and well-fed. You sound like you know the workings of St. Thomas better than I do. Can you get us passage to Florida?” 

“I might. You up for a walk?” 

“I might. Though if you are asking, it sounds like it might be a long way.” 

“Yes, it is, but we’re going to walk because I don’t know how to ride a horse. We’re going to go visit a friend of mine.”

**~*~**

The building near Limetree Beach on the south side of the island was not a house. Nolan certainly meant to be helpful when he pointed that out to Liam as the worked their way across the sand.

“No, it’s not.” Liam moved with a steady pace, kicking up sand as he did. “I didn’t understand it either until Mason managed to get it all set up.”

“Mason?”

“He’s my friend, though he’s not the person we’re coming to see.” Liam went up to the door and knocked on it. 

“So what was this place?”

“I think,” Mason announced coming from around the corner of the building, “that some congregation was planning to build a church, but they must have changed their minds on the location. I found designs for a confessional and pews.” 

Liam stepped forward with a huge smile, clasping each other like brothers and slapping each other on the back. Nolan could almost feel the warm feelings between them.

“How’ve you been?” Mason smiled and opened the door of his home. “What’s going on? I heard that your ship docked the day before yesterday, but it’s already gone. Why aren’t you on it? Why’d it leave so early?” 

“I’ll tell you, Mason, but first let me introduce you to Nolan Holloway of His Majesty’s Navy.”

Nolan held out his hand. “A pleasure!”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Mason spoke better English than most of the people that Nolan had met on any ship. His grip was firm and polite but a little dirty. “Oh, sorry about that. I was out foraging.”

The stone building was large but roofless. Once inside, Nolan realized that it was a garden or an apothecary or perhaps both. Plants grew in pots or in soil-filled troughs. 

“Think nothing of it. We did drop by unannounced.”

Mason gestured to a table with four chairs. “Make yourself comfortable while I wash my hands. Would you want some water? It’s warm out and we’re a good distance from the city.”

“Of course,” Liam answered. When Nolan hesitated, unsure about whether to refuse, Liam grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him down onto the table.

“What is this for?” Nolan asked.

“Mason is an apothecary.”

“Well, no one will actually give me a title but everyone treats me as such.” Mason called out, coming back with wooden cups and a pitcher of water. 

“You’re as good as any of them!” Liam stated, loudly. 

Mason shook his head and poured a glass of water. “I get to study my plants and my medicines and I get enough coin not to starve. That’s all I can ask for.”

“How did you two meet?” Nolan asked. He thought it was innocent enough, but it immediately put a damper on the spirits of the meeting. “I’m sorry …” 

“No. It’s not your fault, Master Holloway,” Mason answered. “You’ve heard about the _Baliza_ and the fight against _La Bête_?” 

Liam ground his teeth in anger, and Nolan wondered why. They had won the battle, after all. 

“I have heard a little.”

“I was stolen from my home when I was very young by a Dutch slaver on the Gold Coast. After a while, he noticed I possessed a nimble mind and had me trained in the medical arts as a means to keep his slaves alive and healthy.” 

Nolan could see, peeking out from the man’s loose collar, a brand that marked an African slave as property. “Oh.” 

“I was sold to Captain Valet, who offered my former master a great deal of money for me.” Mason’s voice never wavered, even though Liam clenched his fists. The freedman must have practiced keeping a civil tongue in front of white people for a long time. “He preyed on the trans-Atlantic slave trade often, and he wanted someone to care for his prizes but he didn’t want to have to pay to do so.” 

“I see.”

Liam looked up and nearly shouted. “You don’t have to tell him anymore. You weren’t responsible for any of that!” 

“I wasn’t actually going to share all of it with your acquaintance, Liam, though I guess I have to now.” Liam blushed furiously and Mason gave him a gentle smiled. “I’ve also told you a hundred times, that I’ll never be ashamed of what he made me do. I was forced to identify those slaves he seized who were too injured or sick to be sold for a profit, after which Valet would have them thrown into the ocean to drown. When Captain McCall and his crew sank _La Bête_ , they rescued me from that hell and brought me here. I can live on this island, free, and use what I’ve learned to help others.”

Nolan glanced between Liam and Mason. Mason’s calmness had clearly come with much practice. On the other hand, Liam’s pain and rage for his friend burned in his eyes. Valet’s predations had left their scars on them both. “It sounds like you have made a good life for yourself.”

“I have.” Mason looked up. “Well, here is the person you were probably here to see. Corey! We have guests!”

Nolan didn’t almost see the man enter the building; the young man, though no smaller than any of them, seemed to keep naturally to the shadows. Introductions were made, as it seemed that Corey lived here with Mason. Liam explained about the offer that Commodore Argent had made to Captain McCall and how his crew had decided that Liam would travel to St. Augustine to accept the letter. Nolan felt a little lost as they talked with each other, friends who had known each other for some time, but he didn’t feel excluded. No one shot him so much as a dirty look and for that he was grateful.

Where Mason had been confident and ebullient, Corey seemed far more quiet and retiring. Yet, during the conversation, the pair gravitated toward each other in both their physicality and their temperament. Nolan would have dared to say that they were perfect complements to each other. 

“So. You need to get to Florida.” Corey came to a conclusion. “You need my help.”

“Any help you can give would be welcome and rewarded.” Nolan finally spoke, inserting himself into the conversation. “It was so much easier, I suppose, to get here than leaving is turning out to be.”

“St. Augustine’s a British port,” Mason pointed out. “While there won’t be lots of traffic, I’m sure there are some ships that’ll make port there. I’m also sure they won’t advertise it to anyone in Charlotte Amelie.”

“Thus our problem,” Liam said. “I figured if anyone knew …”

“I would,” muttered Corey. “Look, I can ask around later tonight. I think I can find a way to get you to Florida.”

“We’ll be sure to accompany you!” Nolan volunteered.

“Urm,” Corey looked surprised. 

Mason saved them from an embarrassing discussion. “Corey used to be a smuggler. He probably should talk to his old friends alone.”

“Yeah,” Liam sniggered. “He wouldn’t want to bring the Pride of the Fleet.”

Nolan sat up straighter, trying to maintain his dignity. “I understand. My apologies.” 

“You should spend the night here,” Mason exclaimed. “Corey won’t have any word for you until tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

“No, we couldn’t possibly impose.”

“It’s no imposition.” Mason assured him while Corey gave his house mate a doubtful look. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to have time to talk to Liam when I heard the _Baliza_ had sailed. I’ll claim his company for the night, and yours as well. You won’t mind sharing a bed?”

Liam and Nolan looked at each other. It was a harmless request but it seemed to trip them up equally. Liam suddenly turned back to Mason, clearing his throat, while Nolan found the ground fascinating.

“No, no.”

“Of course not!” 

“Then it’s settled.” Mason clapped his hands. “Let me show you what I’ve been working on!”


	5. Blackbeard's Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Nolan share a bed as guests at Mason's and Corey's home. Liam starts to enjoy Nolan's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Nolan reflects on Mason and Corey's relationship, but he uses the customs and mores of the time period. While he's not condemnatory, legal and religious aspects of same-sex relationships are discussed.

A pregnant moon hung low over the waters of the Caribbean, growing fatter with each night until soon it would reach the full orb. No clouds marked the black velvet backdrop of the firmament, and the stars were like tiny little midwives, each holding a candle. 

Nolan lay face up on the bed, watching the Milky Way entwine itself with the slats that covered the never-done roof of a half-built church. “I imagine that it has its advantages.” He had pulled the thin blanket up so it was tucked under his chin. Beyond the netting, the room had only three walls, and while the breeze off the Caribbean wasn’t chilly, it did make him feel exposed.

Sensing motion in response to his words, he turned to his right where Liam had propped himself up on one elbow, seeming far more relaxed than he was, on his side of the bed. The privateer was studying him, hair slightly mussed, his part of their shared blanket pooling around his waist. Nolan was suddenly reminded of the sculptures he saw when he was in London. “What has its advantages?”

“I’m sorry. I was talking out loud about the lack of a solid roof and the missing wall. I know that it would make this home cooler given the clime. You wouldn’t have to wash the floor that often. It is that I’m not used to feeling so … open.”

Liam snorted lazily. “Over there in the corner, there’s a series of planks that you can put up on the roof when it’s going to rain. They fit together like a puzzle. There’s also a wall made out of canvas and wood when there’s going to be a storm coming off the sea from the south. Mason built it this way on purpose.”

“Did he?” It still seemed awfully insecure, but he grew up in England. 

“Mason’s really smart. He got the idea for the roof and the wall from a book he read about Japan.” Liam let his head fall back on the pillow, eyes lifting to the stars above. “His first year on St. Thomas, he studied the prevailing winds and the ocean currents around and deduced that most storms would come from the north.”

Nolan listened, content in the dark. Liam’s voice held real reverence for his friend’s learning. 

“I wish …” Liam trailed off. 

With a soft grunt, Nolan encouraged him to continue.

“I wish that Mason would be willing to serve on the ship with me. I miss him when we’re gone. He’d have a place there; Corey could have one, too.” The boatswain’s voice was wistful. “But he won’t. He says that after his time on _La Bête,_ he doesn’t want to serve any master. Scott’s not anything like Valet, but … Mason refuses. The captain understands, and though Scott tried to explain it to me, it doesn't make my desire fade."

“Mason wants his freedom.”

“There is no freedom on land.” Liam’s voice filled with anger that wasn't directed at his friend, so loud that someone stirred on the other side of the church-turned home. Like naughty children, Liam and Nolan waited in the dark to see if Mason or Corey would appear to ask what was wrong. They didn’t.

Nolan tried to smooth out his breathing in the dark so he could fall to sleep, but his desire for Liam to talk more interfered. He liked listening to the sound of the man’s voice. Nolan had never felt farther from home and it was comforting. 

“There is no freedom on land,” whispered Liam, bringing himself closer to Nolan. “There’s only obligations and expectations and people you disappoint.”

The midshipman wasn’t sure that was quite true. He wanted to ask Liam why he felt that way, but they had only just met two days ago. It would be terribly rude to pry so deeply. To prolong the conversation, Nolan decided to change the topic.

“Was not Corey was very kind to let us share his bed?”

“This isn’t Corey’s bed.”

“Oh?”

“Corey bunks with Mason. This is the guest room.”

Nolan shifted his arms and shoulders, letting the cover slide down just a little. “That seems awfully uncomfortable, them bunking together when there’s a perfectly good bed not fifty feet away.”

Liam stirred and his head blocked out the view. “Do you jest with me or are you thick?”

“Neither.”

“They are intimate with each other.”

“Good God. Really?”

In a flurry of motion, the other man brought himself close to Nolan's face. Even in the dark, Nolan became aware of Liam’s physical presence, looming over him. He wasn’t frightened even though the boatswain radiated aggression.

“I’m simply surprised, that’s all.” He tried to sound nonchalant. “They did not seem the type.”

“You’ve been on ships, even if the Royal Navy looks down on it, they look the other way.”

Nolan shook his head to soothe. “Voyages are long and things will happen between mates in close quarters. I knew these two stewards who were very happy with each other, though no one ever admitted it out loud.”

“And neither do they!” Liam hissed with suppressed rage. “They’ve been through quite a bit, and they bring each other comfort. You will not speak a word against them!”

“I _haven’t._ ” 

Liam pulled back at that. His anger vanished as quickly as it arose, and he shifted slightly away from him. 

“I simply expressed my surprise.” Even with Liam’s display of anger, Nolan wanted him to keep talking. But the other man didn’t seem to desire more conversation, perhaps embarrassed by his display of emotion. Perhaps he was simply tired.

Nolan listened to Liam’s breathing slow and then steady, the heady rush of consciousness replaced by sleep’s peace. He felt it creeping it up on him as well.

He certainly hadn’t meant to sound as if he were condemning Mason and Corey. Sodomy was against the law; it carried the sentence of death in England and in the Royal Navy, yet the crime, so far as Nolan understood, had been ignored on most of the His Majesty’s ships as long as it wasn’t flagrant and both participants were willing. The stewards about whom he had spoken with Liam had been meticulous in their appearance; while everyone on the ship fully realized what the two men meant to each other and could imagine what they got up to in private, not a single person could claim to have seen something more than a chaste gesture of fondness between them. 

And thus they lived.

Sodomy was a sin as well; he had heard the vicars and the chaplains talk about it enough, but to Nolan’s mind, they had been what his father called “work-a-day sins.” They were wrong to do, but they were hard to avoid in this world, like taking the Name of God in vain. If you smashed your thumb with a hammer, you were as like as not to commit that sin regardless. God would understand; after all, He had taken steps to help you with it, what with the Crucifixion and all. 

There would be men and women who felt the sting of love’s arrow to those of the same sex. It was bound to happen in the span of working together in the same place when there was little other choice. The consequences to it were far more endurable then the agony of perpetual loneliness.

Nolan nodded sleepily to himself. He didn’t know why he had spent so much time thinking about it. He would probably never meet Mason or Corey again after he left St. Thomas. That would be a pity, they seemed very friendly and Mason, in particular seemed a terribly interesting fellow. 

He decided that it would be a concern for the morning, as he faded off to sleep.

**~*~**

Liam watched Nolan fiddle with his tunic. Corey had loaned the midshipman some clothing that didn’t scream loyalty to His Majesty. It consisted of a maroon tunic, knee-length breaches, and a pair of leather sandals. Nolan looked a little lost as he stood at the entrance to city, as if he were trying to find a mirror in the underbrush.

“How do I look?”

“Like a British sailor trying to look like a pirate.” Liam couldn’t help but chuckle. Nolan seemed helpless out of his uniform.

The Englishman scowled at him, irritated by the criticism. “That’s not particularly helpful.”

“Good. I wasn’t going for helpful, I was going for funny.” 

Nolan pursed his lips. “Fine.”

“Here.” Liam walked over and put a hand on Nolan’s lower back. “Common men do not stand like that when they’re not being yelled at.” He put another hand on Nolan shoulders and started adjusting his posture. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam saw Nolan blush.

Perhaps to cover his embarrassment, Nolan shook out his arms and legs to loosen up. “Better?”

“If you were a beheaded chicken!”

Nolan glared at him. “I think you’re mocking me.”

“I think you’re right!”

At this moment, Corey interrupted the good-natured ribbing by coming out from between two buildings. Liam had frequently been startled by Corey’s stealth. He was a naturally quiet person, tending to step back from the limelight when in groups. He had also worked in the smuggling trade throughout the Caribbean from a young age. He knew how to disappear when it was needed. 

“I’ve booked passage for both of you to a mission at the mouth of the Miami River. It’ll take a little over two weeks to walk to St. Augustine, but you’ll be able to buy provisions on the way.”

Liam nodded his acceptance. It would be a little longer than he had thought, but it was what it was.

“More than two weeks?” Nolan exclaimed. “I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but why so far away?”

“The war is a big part of it. Most smugglers try to land as far away from military ports as they can and bring in their goods overland. They’re especially antsy about human cargo, because any good smuggler is automatically going to assume that you’re spies. Getting caught transporting goods, they could get away with a bribe or a fine or impressment or even time in the jail. If they get caught transporting spies? They’ll hang with you.”

“We’re not spies,” Nolan objected. 

“They don’t know that, and it’s best that they don’t know differently, especially if you’re carrying as much coin on you as I know you are.” Corey admonished. “I tried to get the most trustworthy smugglers I could find on short notice, but those are two words that don’t often find themselves next to each other.”

“I know you did your best. Thank you, Corey.”

“Yes, thank you, Corey.” Nolan made to dig into his bag for some coin. “For your trouble.”

Liam caught his hand. “This was a favor.”

Corey didn’t look offended at all, but he simply nodded.

“He involved himself in criminal activity for our benefit. It’d be terribly shallow not to offer him something in return.”

“I’ll tell you what, if you ever make it back to St. Thomas, bring some books for Mason. We don’t get that many here.” Corey suggested with a grimace.

Nolan stood up straight again and Liam fought the urge to palm his face.

“I will. I promise.” 

They bid their friend farewell, with Liam asking him to take care of Mason, as was their custom. This left them with a particular dock and a time to show up, which wouldn’t be until after nightfall. They’d set sail from the port in the middle of the night and then work their way to the coast of Florida.

“We have a few hours to spend,” Liam shared his knowledge. “We don’t want to show up before that, according to Corey.”

“I’m not quite hungry yet, but I would like to have a meal before we leave. Who knows when we might eat decent food again?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They started to walk aimlessly. “Where is your favorite spot in the city?” 

Liam glanced over at him. “Hayden’s tavern.”

“I supposed that is a good enough answer.” 

“Good enough? What were you expecting?” Liam shook his head and smiled. For some reason, Nolan made him smile a lot, even if they were technically enemies.

“You seem a passionate soul. I thought it would be some romantic garden or melancholy graveyard.”

Liam laughed out loud. “Do you think I’m a poet?”

The midshipman looked down and away, clearly embarrassed once again. Liam felt bad for him; the sailor had been trying to compliment him not mock him, and he had scoffed in his face. He felt the need to make it up to him.

“There is one place I liked. I try to go there at least once every time I come to St. Thomas.” 

Liam led Nolan through the busy streets of Charlotte Amalie. They went around vendors of food, of household goods, of sundry items that made their way off the innumerable boats. Nolan paused at one vendor, looking at a shipment of books. Liam pulled him away. 

“Most likely, one of them has already checked that vendor, and, anyway, you’d have to carry it for months even if you did buy it.” He jerked his head over his shoulder. “It’s not far to where we’re going.”

Eventually, they worked their way to the top of a hill. A round tower sat at the highest point of the city, towering over everything else. 

“The Skytsborg?” 

Liam nodded vigorously. “Come on.”

“It’s a Danish military fortification.”

“Not at this time of day.”

Liam confidently led him up to the side of the tower where there was a heavy wooden door. The door was locked but not very firmly. 

Nolan looked around in disbelief, and Liam smiled as he climbed the stairs. The sailor followed him up.

“The first time we were in port after the captain picked me up, there was a fire in the mess. The tower needs a lot of repair before soldiers could actually occupy it full time. They need to eat, so it’s empty during the first dog watch.” 

Nolan noticed the suit on the walls of the staircase. “Is it safe?”

“Safe enough.” Liam looked back and winked. “I wouldn’t boast of your allegiance if we get caught, and if you hear stone crumbling, you should run.”

“I’m quite sure you’re mad.”

Opening the trap door to the roof, Liam extended his hand and pulled Nolan to the roof. “You’re only now figuring that out?”

From the roof of the round tower, the city and the island spread out before them. From the green of the lush forests to the lighter green of the sugar plantations. The red and brow roofs of the city clustered at the base until you reach the blue of the sea. Boats looked like toys. 

“This is amazing.” Nolan mouth fell open a little bit. “Thank you for showing me this. It gives everything perspective doesn’t it?”

“Perspective?” 

“Yes. How small the works of man are.”

“Uh.” Liam felt a little dumb. “I thought it was pretty.”

Nolan smiled back at him. “Yes, I guess it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Skytsborg is a landmark of Charlotte Amalie. It is now called Blackbeard's Castle. 
> 
> There is little description of Charlotte Amalie's layout from the eighteenth century. I've tried my best, but it not make any sense.
> 
> The mission at the mouth of the Miami River will eventually become the city of Miami.


	6. The Coast of Florida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Nolan travel with smugglers to the coast of Florida and hike back to the naval harbor at St. Augustine.

Nolan had taken one look at the _Orphan_ where it was docked and then turned to Liam with a look of transcendent horror. He hadn’t said anything, but Liam hadn’t needed him to. The cutter looked like it was held together by cheap caulk and the tattered remnants of nightmares. It didn’t look like it would survive crossing the harbor let alone the six-day voyage to Florida. 

It turned out to be seaworthy enough. In fact, with a good strong gust, it flew across the waves like an arrow shot from a bow. As fast as it moved, however, the numerous tiny leaks kept Liam’s and Nolan’s anxiety fresh throughout the entire voyage.

As the sun started to drop into the Caribbean on the first day, Liam finally addressed the captain. He was a captain, even though his ship only had a complement of four sailors. “I’m surprised, honestly.”

The captain’s clothing was as in poor a condition as his ship. He had seen difficult times; one eye was milky and two fingers were missing from his right hand. Even across the deck, he smelled of perspiration and rum. “She ain’t nothing to look at, but she’ll get you to where you need to go.”

To the south, barely visible in the gathering twilight was a dark mass that could be land.

“What do you think that is?” Nolan asked.

Liam studied it for a moment. “I think it’s Aguadilla.”

“Puerto Rico? We must be eighty miles from St. Thomas.” 

They was good time in a cutter. Really good time. Liam thought about it, and he realized that even with the benefit of the trade winds, the ship could only moves fast if it were unladen. 

“You’re not carrying any cargo?”

“No!” The captain exclaimed, lifting a jug to his lips. “You’re our sole cargo until Florida.” 

“Doesn’t seem very profitable.”

The man shrugged, feigning a lack of care. “We make our money on the way back.”

Liam felt a trill of danger run down his back. The crew hadn’t greeted them, and they hadn’t gotten any friendlier over the day. In fact, he had endured the strangest feeling that they had been studying him. He shifted his position until he could feel the belaying pin on the rail on his back, and he laid a hand on the bag next to him, which held his pistol. 

“You should get some sleep.” The captain said. “As our passengers, one of you should take the bunk in my cabin. It is small, but more comfortable than the deck.”

Nolan, ever the gentleman, piped up. “We couldn’t possibly put you out.”

“It is no trouble at all, my friends.”

Liam had nothing but faith in Corey, but he had also remembered Corey talking about the problem with smugglers. Once you decided to make your living breaking the law, it got easier and easier to break all the laws. Your conscience was the first cargo you jettisoned. Nolan had paid them in silver. It wasn’t paranoid for him to suspect that maybe this particular captain intended to make his money on the trip out.

“That’s very kind of you. If you are sure it wouldn’t …”

“No.” Liam wrapped his arm around Nolan and pulled him close. Nolan’s breath left his body in a single rush. “I know these ships. Ain’t enough room for both of us.”

The captain narrowed his eyes.

“Liam?” Liam could see Nolan color even in the dimming light. 

“You understand, Captain, I’m the jealous type. We’ll be just fine here.”

Nolan tried to get out from under his arm, but that just made Liam pull him tighter. Finally, the midshipman rearranged himself so he could put his mouth into Liam’s ear.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Liam moved his face so it seemed that he was nuzzling at Nolan’s neck. “I think they’re going to try to rob us.”

Nolan stiffed and tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he didn’t make it. 

“Stop moving so much. You’ll give us away.”

“Do you really think they’ll try that?”

Liam gazed over the top of Nolan’s ear at the cutter crew. “I think that this man usually doesn’t offer to give up his own bed to a stranger. They want to separate us, murder us in our sleep for the silver they think we carry – which you are carrying – and then throw our bodies overboard. We can’t give them that opportunity.”

Nolan relaxed his back matching with Liam’s chest and his head resting slightly on Liam’s shoulder.

“I guess then we won’t be spending our nights on this ship close together, though do I wonder whatever will they think of us?”

“Well,” Liam drawled out. “They’re smugglers as well as possibly being robbers, so I don’t really care at all.”

They sat there, bodies pressed close as the twilight passed fully into night. The captain finally went down stairs and the crew not on watch found places on the deck to sleep. Liam felt the night and the warmth of Nolan’s body on his lulling him into an early sleep. It didn’t help that Nolan had already passed out, snoring gently in his ear.

His arm had relaxed a long time before, but it was still loosely draped around Nolan’s middle. He could feel the body underneath the loose tunic, his hand rose and fell with each breath Nolan took. 

Liam found himself, even in these less than ideal circumstances, curious and more than a little pleased. If Boyd had teased him about liking Nolan, he would have hotly denied it, insisting that the English sailor was a timid, sour martinet who couldn’t possibly interest him. Yet, he did like Nolan. He liked the way Nolan felt pressed up against him. It was more than simply a curious happenstance; it was a mystery. 

He had fallen hard for Hayden, and she was nothing like Nolan. She was a hurricane on fire. She’d out-drink any man in her tavern. She’d out-fight any man in her tavern. She knew what she wanted and she knew what she didn’t want and she was never shy about sharing both with anyone who cared to know. Liam had known that he wanted her the moment he laid eyes on her, and she had wanted him back. Yet, she wanted her future to be on land.

He had fallen hard for Scott, and he was nothing like Nolan. He was hero out of the classic adventure stories. He had pulled Liam from certain death in blood-filled waters. He had given Liam a home, a friends, and a purpose. He was kind without being weak, strong without being cruel, and courageous without demanding others be the same. Liam had pretty much worshiped the deck he had walked upon. But the captain hadn’t wanted Liam the way Liam wanted him.

Nolan could claim none of those traits. He was clearly a pawn being used by Commodore Argent. He had carried out his mission with little to no recognition of the amount of danger he was in. The midshipman was constantly in over his head even when nothing was happening. If it hadn’t been for Liam, Nolan would probably have found himself a nameless stripped corpse in one of the less clean alleyways of Charlotte Amalie. He certainly would have been food for these smugglers.

Yet, Liam pulled the other man a little closer as he fought off sleep. He’d stay up a little while longer, keeping his eye on the other crewmen. He had to make sure that they were both safe.

**~*~**

By the end of this trip, Nolan could only imagine he would know everything about Liam and Liam would know everything about him.

They had spent five days in a boat from St. Thomas to their destination: a mission at the mouth of the Miami River. The smugglers had not attempted to kill them, but he had come to believe that if the pair of them hadn’t taken so many precautions, they probably would have. He had admitted to Liam as much. 

The priests and nuns at the mission were grateful for the coin that Nolan gave them for supplies, and the pair would certainly need them. It would take them the full two weeks to get to St. Augustine. At least, he didn’t have to worry about getting them lost. All they had to do was keep the Atlantic on their right and keep walk. Eventually, they’d reach the city.

Nolan wasn’t looking forward to it. 

Liam had been correct about living out of uniform, though Nolan would never give him the pleasure of admitting it. His time on his own had been freeing. He got up when he wanted to. He set the pace that he wanted to keep. He stopped when he wanted to stop. Their pace was leisurely as a result. There were a number of small villages along the coast where they visited simply to see who people lived. Liam could speak Spanish if they needed, and Nolan was rapidly picking up that language. 

Sometimes, they came across natives. Nolan had been terrified to meet them, because he had heard so many stories about rampaging savages, yet in person, they didn’t seem to match those stories. Some were hostile but not aggressive, others were friendly enough though not trusting. They had learned by the experience not to trust the English or the Spanish. But they always let Liam and Nolan go on their way

So they fished, and walked, and slept under the stars. There was nothing else to do but talk to each other, and so they talked quite a deal. Liam had hinted before at his life before in the colony of Delaware, but now he told Nolan about how his family had raised him. If it were not for his rages, he probably would still be there, tending the animals on their farm. 

But he did have rages, and eventually he fled to the sea so as to no longer bring trouble on his family. 

“Where did they come from?” Nolan had asked once, while they sought shelter in the thick brush from a sudden squall.

“The rages?”

“Yes.”

“I do not rightly know. I grew angry at things that other people did not. It got so bad, my mother began to grow afraid of them and of me, and my father was at a loss of what to do. Some of the people in the village began to think I was cursed by the devil.”

“My, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but that’s just silly.”

Liam wasn’t looking at him, but he smiled at the words. “Maybe I’m cursed, maybe I’m not, but I knew I couldn’t stay there, so I ran away to the sea. They didn’t get any better, and that got flogged a lot on the ship. The only benefit was that since I got into so many fights, my captain saw I was a good enough fight to keep on board.”

“Flogged?” 

“Don’t sound so horrified. Surely you have seen people flogged before.”

“Yes, but they weren’t people like you. They were shiftless layabouts. They were malingerers. They stole and cheated and swore.”

Laughter bubbled up out of Liam. “Well, Midshipman Holloway, I am very pleased to be so renowned in your estimation.”

“You are.” Nolan let it slip out. “You are high in my regard.”

Both of them smiled at each other but then it grew uncomfortable, as if something else had appeared between them that neither had foreseen. “Well,” Nolan said hastily and reached down to pick up his pack, breaking the contact. “The rain has slowed. Shall we?”

Liam grunted softly in agreement and they set off again.

For the rest of that afternoon, though, Nolan could not think about anything else but what he had said and the smile that it had earned him from Liam. He chided himself for thinking that way. In less than a fortnight they would be back at his berth, and he would be assigned to the _Phobos_ , and Liam would be off with the letter of marque. The ocean was wide and vast, and there was a war going on, and he had a career to earn. 

It would be unlikely if they ever saw each other again. In a weird and undefinable way, Nolan felt bereft at the thought. 

“Preposterous.”

Liam turned back from where he had been walking up ahead. “Did you say something?”

“I was but thinking out loud.” Nolan’s voice broke in his nervousness. “Pay me no mind.”

“As you wish.”

Nolan studied the other man’s back as he trudge through the sand. He wondered how they could be so similar and yet so wildly different. Liam and he suffered from similar maladies, yet Nolan had ran toward safety while Liam had escaped to freedom. Captain Scott was always the hero in the stories which Liam told, but Nolan was no fool; for all the boatswain’s humility, he knew that Liam had always been right next to the captain, and acted as heroic. He wished that he could be that brave. How pathetic he must seem, constantly in the grip of unidentifiable fear?

Yet, Liam didn’t act as if he were contemptible. He was protective of him, Nolan had indeed noticed that, but it was the way you protected a friend, not a burden. Another smile grew upon his face as they continued their journey.

Eventually, however, the afternoon wore out. When they had started, they had tried to walk from sun-up to sun-down, but it was August and the days were long and hot. So, it had become a habit for them to always keep an eye out for a good spot to camp, one with good shelter and fresh water. This particular evening they found a small hut, much disused but with the roof mostly intact, standing next to a narrow stream that meandered its way into a lagoon. 

They stowed their packs in the hut and then split up. To save on the rations they had purchased, they tried to hunt and gather food when they stopped. Liam took the musket, while Nolan took a knife. In the fading light, he found a stand of ground cherries and gathered them up. He was sure they weren’t poisonous, as he had seen the workers at the mission eat them. In the distance he heard the faint retort of a pistol shot. He hurried back only to find Liam holding aloft a rabbit.

“Dinner!” Liam waved it like a captured flag. It was bloody work, with Liam admitting he hadn’t skinned a rabbit in years. Nolan commented that he hadn’t skinned a rabbit _ever_ and so gathered firewood. They ate like kings, but messy kings.

The last glimmers of twilight were fading out. The sky was clear after the earlier rain and the moon sailed through a sea of stars. “I think …” Liam said slowly, “that I am going to bathe. I look like I massacred someone.”

Nolan wiped his hands after he had finished burying the rabbit bones in the sand. “You do.”

Liam hesitated, the light from the small fire throwing his face in relief. “You should join me.”

The Florida night wasn’t silent. Insects called to each other. A stick crackled on the fire. Nolan felt like he couldn’t get breath into his lungs. Words denied him, he nodded, stood, and pulled his tunic over his head. Liam had already tossed his jacket to the side and was pulling off his sandals. 

Nolan thought it had to be a little self-deceptive. Neither of them could possibly think that they were simply getting cleaned up after their meal. All lies they were telling themselves vanished when the last of their clothes were removed. Liam reached out and took him by the hand, pulling him out of the fire light and into the darkness of the nearby creek.

The water was cold, and Nolan couldn’t help but shiver, in response Liam pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together as the creek got deeper and deeper. Nolan, in a burst of rashness, leaned forward and kissed him. He felt like he was pledging something to Liam, something he had pulled out of his from the recesses of his heart, something that he didn’t even know he had. 

With Liam in control of their entwined bodies but Nolan pressing forward with his kiss, they sank beneath the surface of the water, all of it reflecting the light of the heavens above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mission at the mouth of the Miami River will eventually become Miami.
> 
> The natives Liam and Nolan encountered were Muscogee that emigrated from the north and would eventually become the Seminoles.


	7. The Spider's Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commodore Argent and Captain Monroe ensnare Liam and Nolan in their intricate plans.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Liam pulled at the collar of his new shirt. 

“It was no trouble at all.” Nolan tucked his hat under his arm, and he adjusted the collar so Liam could breathe easier.

It didn’t make Liam feel any better; the outfit had cost a ridiculous amount of money. “I mean, you _really_ didn’t have to do this.” 

The clothes were extravagant, but they were fashionable, at least Liam supposed they were. He hadn’t kept up with what they were wearing in London, and he had spent far too much time half-naked on a ship to feel comfortable. The clothes that sailor did wear in the tropical climes tended to be loose and didn’t constrict movement. He could only imagine how it would feel if Nolan had tried to put him in a uniform. Even now, he felt very much like a sausage. 

“I think you look very sharp,” Nolan said, oblivious to his discomfort. “A handsome ship’s officer. You definitely needed one, considering you had worn the same two sets of clothes for three weeks while we traveled in the wilderness. _Vestis virum facit,_ as I was taught in grammar school.”

“When I went to school, they taught us English.”

“Ha, ha.” Nolan stepped back. “You colonials. Erasmus of Rotterdam said that clothes make the man. If you dress as a gentleman, you’ll be treated as a gentleman.”

Liam sobered up. “You know … this could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Nolan looked at him. “Why do you think that?”

“Commodore Argent hates Scott. They’ve fought before.”

Nolan nodded. “I’ve heard that, but I truly don’t think the commodore is insincere. After all, that’s why they sent me with the offer rather than someone more closely tied to the Argent family.”

Liam studied Nolan. He had got to know him, and he could tell that Nolan wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t as sure as he had been about his plan. 

“When will we meet him?”

“I sent a message yesterday that we had arrived in town.” Nolan sat down on a chair to wait. “I’m sure he will summon us when he’s ready.”

Liam sat down as well on a chair opposite him. He hadn’t felt this awkward on St. Thomas, on the smuggler’s cutter, or even during the long walk up the coast. But now, clean and with nothing to do but wait for the Argents, he suddenly felt like a fool walking into a trap. “Your uncle has a very nice house.” 

“I think he intends to give it to me, soon. He’s childless, you see, and I might be the only heir he has. He was a younger son, and many years ago he begged for some of my grandfather’s money in order to come here and make his fortune.”

“I assume he has made his fortune.”

Nolan’s brows came together in disapproval. “He did earn a great deal of money, but he did so in an enterprise of which I’m not particularly fond. I didn’t honestly know that he was involved in the slave trade until I arrived here.”

After all Liam had seen and experienced on the ocean, after getting to know Boyd and Mason, he couldn’t accept the idea of slaves and slavery. He was glad that Nolan at least shared in his disquiet with it. 

“I think he’s planning to return home. He wants to see the family, I suppose.”

“Do you?”

Nolan’s eyes drifted over to the window. “I’m content to wait. I have other … pursuits in which I would like to indulge.” Liam was sure he was blushing.

There was a knock on the door. Nolan did not wait for the servant, but he went to go see who it was by himself. It was a little African boy, wearing clothing that looked almost as ridiculous as Liam felt he looked. 

“The commodore would like you to come now, sir.” 

“Of course, of course.” Nolan turned to him and gestured. Liam struggled into his jacket, while Nolan put his hat on his head.

They passed by the harbor as they approach the Argent House. Nolan suddenly grabbed Liam by the sleeve and pointed. “There she is! Have you ever seen anything like her?”

Liam followed his eyes. “What is that?”

“It’s the _Phobos_!” Nolan said excitedly. “The commodore had her designed to his specifications. She’s said to the fastest, toughest third-rate frigate in the Caribbean! I’ve heard all the stories.”

“The commodore had her built?”

“It was said he even traveled, as crippled as he is to Portsmouth to inspect her in person.” Nolan bit his lip. “I’ve not been aboard, but from all the reports she’s simply gorgeous.”

From what Liam could see, the ship was indeed something special, all clean pine and white linen. It didn’t make him happy. Instead, it felt like a lump had formed in his throat. “Will you be serving on her?”

Nolan blinked as if the question struck him. “That was what they promised me when I took the mission. I’m not sure …” He trailed off, sounding apprehensive. 

“Oh.” Liam felt stupid. Of course, Nolan was going to get a posting on a British naval vessel. Of course, Liam was going to receive the letter from the commodore and return to Scott, to share with him what he learned of the trap. That’s why he had done this, after all. That’s why he had come here.

Liam shook his head. “Have you … were you thinking of a different ship?”

“I said that I am not sure.” Nolan looked away from the port. “We should concentrate on the meeting with Commodore Argent. He’s the reason we’re here, after all, and we’ve gone through all this trouble.”

**~*~**

The child did not take them through the house but into the greenhouse through the garden path. Nolan felt relieved. He didn’t really want to walk through the Argent’s gruesome hallway of trophies once again. It would probably make Liam uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to do that.

Gerard Argent sat in his wheel chair in one corner of the greenhouse. It was the warmest part of the enclave, which was already warmer and more humid than the summer air outside. Perhaps it helped him breathe easier. 

“So,” the old man growled, “you’re a member of the _Baliza_ ’s crew.”

“I’m the boatswain, sir.” Liam stood straight. Nolan, who knew that Liam was a little bit nervous, was very proud of him.

“And Captain McCall couldn’t come himself?”

“He thought that sending a representative was best, given your history. As his officer, I volunteered to come.”

Argent laughed. It was a terrible sound, a wheezing that sounded like the slide of wet gravel. “He’s not stupid, I’ll give him that.” 

Nolan glanced at Liam, who didn’t react as if the exclamation was surprising. He didn’t like the sound of that. 

“No, sir, he’s not.”

In the back of the room, Nolan watched Captain Monroe approach. Her eyes were fixed on Liam, calculating, even as she seemed physically non-threatening. 

Nolan couldn’t help himself. “What would you have done if Captain McCall had come?”

Gerard’s eyes darted toward him. “I will leave that up to your imagination, if you had one. Your question shows your lack of awareness of the danger you were in. They’re all cut-throats. That’s also no longer the question, as he hasn’t come and he’s not going to come. The question now is — what are we going to do with one of his sailors?”

The room started to spin, as Nolan felt his heart beat so hard it kept him from drawing air. Of course, Liam had shared with him the theory that this had all been a trap, but Nolan had never really believed it. In a way, he couldn’t let himself believe it, because that would mean that Commodore Argent and Captain Monroe had known there had been a chance he could have been instantly murdered.

He glanced at the other officers, and suddenly he could imagine them doing something terrible to Liam or, worse, ordering him to do something terrible to Liam. He had been a fool to trust them, but they were still officers in the Royal Navy. They could order Liam’s arrest and Nolan would have to do it. They could hang him.

Nolan, hoping no one would notice, rubbed his hand over his face. He wouldn’t do it. He decided that right then and there. He would defy any order in that vein. Where that left him, where that left his family, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t do it.

He refocused, only to realize that no one had been paying him any attention. Captain Monroe had finished her examination. “We should give him a ship.”

The jaws of every man in the room fell open.

“He has experience in battle, he’s led men.” Monroe’s face was friendly, but it was type of a false friendliness, like a swindler trying to calm a mark. “You were there, weren’t you, when the _Baliza_ took down _La Bête?_ ”

Liam had been standing up even straighter. “I was, ma’am. Someone had to put Valet down, so my captain did it.”

Monroe smiled but it was a shark’s smile. “We should give him the _Herne._ ”

“Are you serious?” Liam demanded.

“Very serious. The _Herne_ is an old 20-gun sixth-rate post ship. It’s the least in our squadron, but it could be yours as an English privateer.”

Her words had startled Gerard so much he had a coughing fit. When it is over, he wiped at his mouth with a cloth. “You … you will … explain?”

“Of course, commodore! For what we are attempting to do, we need a full squadron! Captain McCall is not interested, which is understandable but a hindrance. He had knowledge and skills that we could have used, but perhaps we can get what we need from Mr. Dunbar here.” Monroe went over to the table, and unrolled a large chart. “Come here, please, Mr. Dunbar.”

Nolan followed along even though he wasn’t asked to. The map showed the Caribbean including New Spain and Louisiana.

Liam’s eyes were drawn to one place on it immediately, and he failed to cover it by looking up at Captain Monroe. “What should I be looking for?”

“The Commodore is assembling this squadron for the honorable purposes of sweeping piracy from the seas.” Captain Monroe looked at him. “As a personal inclination, the first nest of pirates he plans to destroy are located here.” 

She touched the chap at a cluster of islands and marshlands at the mouth of the Mississippi. 

“That land is claimed by Spain,” Nolan pointed out. “We’re at war with them.”

“The Spanish can’t possibly be less eager to wipe out pirates than we are. They’ve had to deal with predators on their merchants from New Spain for centuries. It would have been easier, if we had a Spanish privateer with us to make our intentions clear to any of their ships we might encounter.”

Commodore Argent coughed again. Nolan glanced over at him and caught his eyes. They were filled with rabid hate and anticipation. Nolan went back to Monroe; she got the feeling she was concealing something.

Liam wasn’t as good as she was at deception. He knew where that spot indicated, but he asked anyway. 

“The Hales. Wretched scum.” Gerard bit out, getting all worked up. “Led by that notorious blood-soaked monster, Peter Hale.”

At that pronouncement, Liam turned to look at him. It was full of suspicion, and it made Nolan tremble. He didn’t recognize the name. 

“If we can’t have the famous Captain McCall help us bring Peter Hale to justice, then perhaps you will help us? You know the story, don’t you, Mr. Dunbar?”

Liam shook his head.

“It was Peter Hale who impressed your captain into a life of piracy. As blackguards like him are want to do, Hale snatched him in the middle of a night off a beach in Mexico. As much unfortunate conflict that Captain McCall had with Commodore Argent, he clearly would have more reason to want to destroy Captain Hale, eh?”

“He might.” Liam cleared his throat and asked once again. “Are you serious?”

“About giving you the _Herne?_ ” Captain Monroe turned from Liam to the Commodore. They locked eyes and eventually, Gerard nodded. Then she turned her pleasant smile to Liam. “You lied to me. You know about Hale. You know the stories about him, and I’m sure that Captain McCall told you about his island fortress.”

Liam didn’t look ashamed as he got caught. He looked defiant. “Yes. I did.”

“Then you understand how much your help would be crucial to this victory.” The female captain nodded. “You get your own ship and a letter of marque.”

“Is that all?”

Monroe chuckled. “I’ll even assign Mr. Holloway here as your First Mate.”

Nolan’s feet almost came out from under him, events were moving so fast. He didn’t understand what was happening. Monroe’s face was knowing, her smile sharp when her eyes shifted to him. Liam’s face wavered between a stony resistance and a surprised eagerness. People could go their entire lives without being an offered the command of their own ship. When Monroe made her final offer, Liam’s hands had clenched and he had swallowed.

“I’d want the charter and the letter of marque in my own hand.”

“Done.” The captain looked over at the commodore. Another staring match continued before the old man grunted. “Mr. Holloway, come with me. We will make this official. Mr. Dunbar, please wait here.”

Monroe led him deeper into the house, Nolan following by his heels. They were heading toward what had to be a study. Without turning around to look at him, she began speaking. “Ask your questions.”

“Is this real?”

“We didn’t spend a lot of coin for you to complete your mission for nothing. Every word I said in there was true.” She bent down and started opening a drawer with a key. “Grab that ink set.”

“But it’s not the only thing going on.” Nolan accused, but he did as he was told.

The captain made a satisfied grunt as she stood up. “No, it’s not. But that’s beyond your pay grade, even though you’re about to get a promotion.”

Nolan pursed his lips. “I want to know why.”

“Do you? Here is why — it’s an order. If you don’t want to accept my orders, the Commodore, your commanding officer, will order you. You will serve as Captain Dunbar’s first officer, but you will keep us informed of everything he does at all times.”

Nolan nodded. What else was he supposed to do? “I still want to know _why._ ”

“I have never lied. I want to wipe pirates and privateers from the ocean. I hate them.”

He swallowed. “It’s personal isn’t it?”

“Liam Dunbar isn’t the only person in that room who was present when the _Baliza _destroyed _La Bête._ There were three ships; the third was a slaver that Valet had taken. I don’t even remember the name of the ship. We were docked; McCall counted on the slaver slowing _La Bête_ down enough for him to deliver a couple of broadsides. It worked; it was _brilliant._ ”__

__Nolan watched the woman. She had always seemed, if not kind, at least polite. He could see the seething rage beneath._ _

__“Recognizing his weakness, Valet ordered the lines cut. But the stories of his cruelty were not exaggerations. He fired the ship. As the _Baliza_ and _La Bête_ fought to the death, the slaver burned like a funeral pyre, for that is what it was. Two hundred souls, including every single person I called a friend in the entire world, burned as well. I had been released from my chains, for I could speak very good English and very good French. I ran like a child without parents, looking for the keys to the chains, but I could not find them. I managed to free six others before the flames grew too hot. We managed to launch the cutter, but we heard every voice screaming in pain.” _ _

__Her eyes glittered and she took a step toward him._ _

__Even though she was a woman, Nolan was afraid. “They were trying to stop The Beast.”_ _

__“Both McCall and Valet are symptoms of a disease. You’re going to help me cure it.”_ _

__Nolan opened his mouth to argue with her, but he had never seen such hatred except in the eyes of Gerard Argent. Arguing with her wasn’t wise. He needed to keep his peace until he could talk to Liam alone._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herne the Hunter was an English spirit associate with The Wild Hunt.


	8. The Herne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Nolan undergo separate yet linked temptations. Both fail to resist.

An empty ship bears with it a menace that no abandoned house or deserted forest could ever have. A poor human soul walking in a dark and foreboding woods became an intruder into the natural world, neither predator nor prey though capable of either, yet remained fundamentally alone. An abandoned house could hold the echoing remnants of human lives wasted within it, but it could also serve as convenient shelter in a terrible storm. An empty ship, on the other hand, combined the worst elements of both, devoid of purpose and helpless before a hostile ocean.

No lights graced the rigging of the _Herne,_ , but the bright moon and the distant lanterns of the city allowed Liam to move across the unfamiliar deck. The sixth-rater wouldn’t be the largest ship in any country’s fleet. It definitely wouldn’t be the newest ship, either. But from the years that Liam had spent with the resilience of the planks beneath his bare feet, he could feel the strength of the sloop beneath him. 

And, at this moment, it was his to command. The only thing that honor might cost him was his soul. 

Liam resisted the urge to reach out and grasp the wheel, a gesture that to him would claim the vessel completely. It had never before occurred to him he might be the captain of his own vessel one day, and now that the possibility hovered before him, it felt so very right. He only wished he could possess it free of the tangled plans hatched by Argent and Monroe. With a feeling more than a guess, more like an instinct, he suspect that giving him the _Herne_ was a musket shot aimed at his captain.

He could still walk away. Liam hadn’t come here to receive a command; he had come here to discover what the old bastard intended for the crew of the _Baliza._ He had more details than they had before, but it didn’t seem like enough. He would not underestimate the lengths that Scott’s enemies would go to hurt him.

Yet, he also had to admit to himself that standing on the deck tempted him, especially with the idea that he could keep Nolan in his presence, as the other man was right then.

“Are you well?” 

Liam took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

His potential first mate stepped closer to him. It was closer than most ship’s officers would ever normally get, but it made Liam shiver even in the warm night. Nolan brought his mouth down to Liam’s ear. “We were followed.”

Liam nodded. He had seen shadows move in the corner of his eye after they had left the commodore’s house as well.

“They’re watching you. We need to go down to the cabin.” Nolan turned away and descended below decks. Liam decided to wait for a few more minutes before following. It wouldn’t do to seem too eager. 

Instead, he searched the stars between the masts until he found Mars, hanging red and menacing and a promise of war. He shuddered, but this time not out of anticipation.

Nolan waited for him in the near pitch blackness of the cabin. As far as Liam could tell, he was sitting on the bed.

“I wish …” Nolan stammered. “I wish I could tell you that everything is above board, but I think you know that it isn’t. I don’t know what plan they have prepared, but they mean your captain no good. They mean _you_ no good.”

Liam crossed the cabin by sound until his reaching hand touched Nolan’s face. “It’s what we expected.”

“That’s what you expected.” Nolan pushed his jaw into Nolan’s hand. “I didn’t.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I _pretended_ I didn’t.” Liam felt his hands grow wet. “I wanted a post on a ship, Liam. I wanted to be a sailor and a good one. I didn’t want to be a spy. I didn’t want to engage in espionage. Yet, I didn’t resign in protest when they asked me to deliver their treacherous offer to Captain McCall. I carried out their mission, pretending all the while that no one would get hurt and lying to myself that if someone did indeed get hurt, it wouldn’t be my fault. Your crew, your friends, all of you were so confident that this was a trap, and yet, in response, I stopped my ears to the truth. I was stupid and weak.”

Liam brought up his other hand and put it on the other side of his face. “You didn’t …”

“Don’t say that I’m innocent. I could not bear it if you did. Commodore Argent scared me from the first time I met him, but I still followed his orders. I let Captain Monroe manipulate me. Now, they have used me to entangle you in their schemes and will use you to trap your friend.”

With a sigh, Liam bent down and kissed Nolan’s forehead. “Then I will not say it. I will say that Scott is not as easy to trap as you might think, and neither am I. Know that I don’t hold any of this against you. I know who you are, and why you did what you did.”

“You’re in danger,” Nolan whispered, no longer afraid of being overheard, more fearful of the meanings behind those words.

“I’m a privateer. If I wished to be safe, I would start farming instead.” He kisses Nolan on the side of the head, just above the ear. 

His companion refused to be comforted. “We need to find some way to get you out of St. Augustine.”

“No. I don’t think we do.”

“What do you mean, Liam?” 

“Leaving now does nothing to stop Commodore Argent’s plan.” Liam made the decision in the dark. “He probably expects me to go to Scott and tell him about the threat to Peter Hale. Scott would be sure to intervene.”

“I thought that there was no love lost between Hale and McCall?”

“There is little love there, but Peter Hale’s daughter, Malia, is very important to Scott. He would most certainly try to save her from this, even if it meant allowing Peter to run free.” Anti-pirate actions were notorious for their ruthlessness towards the loser. If the Argents won, the best that Malia could hope for was imprisonment and branding. 

“So we’ll sail with them to Louisiana?” 

Liam smiled at the ‘we’ll’. “Yes. I do have to figure out a way to get a message to the _Baliza._ They are no doubt nearby.”

“But you told —”

“Scott wouldn’t let me walk into this stronghold without an idea on how to get me out. If they hear that I’ve been named as the _Herne_ ’s captain, they’ll follow at a distance when we set out.” Liam couldn’t be sure, but he suspect that was Monroe’s motive in offering him the ship. “We need to prevent that from happening.”

“No?”

“At least until I am sure that this isn’t the part of some elaborate ambush.”

Nolan grabbed Liam’s hands. “I can do it. I’ll get a message to them. They will be watching you very closely. They won’t be paying attention to me nearly as much.” He paused to take a breath. “I think that they believe that even if I am not on board with their plan, I will do as I am told because I’m too afraid to cross them.”

“You’re not,” Liam lay back in the shadows on the bed. 

Nolan followed him. “Oh, I am. I am very afraid. If my family could see me now, they’d be horrified that I’m contemplating treason.”

“You’re afraid, but you’re not too afraid. You will do the right thing, that I trust.” Liam kissed Nolan’s cheek again. “This is _not_ treason. Scott is no threat to the Crown.” 

“Too afraid? What’s that? I was so used to fearing for myself, only now that fear is for you.” Nolan rolled over until he was on top of Liam, straddling his waist. “Let me do this thing for you. Let me go to them and tell them what’s happening.”

“You can’t tell Scott what’s happening. Instead you have to tell them that I’m staying with the _Herne_ of my own free will and that there is no plot against them.”

Liam couldn’t see much of Nolan’s face of the darkness, but he could imagine it screwing up in the confusion.

“They want the _Baliza_ to be there when they attack the Hales. The best thing is for my … for them to be anywhere but there.” He pulled Nolan down to him. “I’ll make sure Malia is safe in the fighting.” 

“But what about you being safe?” 

Liam didn’t answer, choosing to draw the other man to him. They did not have much time so he pulled Nolan’s shirt up out of his breeches and fumbled with the buttons on them. He was a skilled sailor, but even he had trouble opening a man’s pants while trying to devour his lips. Nolan moaned as he did so, distracted from his concern. They were alone so he could be as loud as he had been when it was just them on the Florida shore. Nolan returned the favor, yanking Liam’s own breeches down. With the frenzy of lovers who knew that the passage of the hours were not on their side, they brought each other to fulfillment, rushing through what in happier times could be leisurely.

Nolan’s enthusiastic response to passion left Liam feeling content, resting his chin on the top of his first mate’s head as they lay together. He could get used to this feeling. 

Both of them grew aware of the necessity of time, passing. It would not do to give those above them a greater clue to what they were quickly beginning to mean to each other. 

“You did not answer my question,” Nolan muttered as he pulled away. 

“Hmm?”

“What of your safety?” 

Liam slid off the bed and helped Nolan put himself back together. “I will be fine. I’m the bait in their plan, so they’re not going to do anything to me. And if they do, I have a great first mate watching my back.” 

Nolan stilled, taking in a breath.

“You are watching my back, right?”

“I promise.”

They kissed one final time before Nolan left him to spend time on board the _Herne._

**~*~**

Nolan clenched his hands to keep them from trembling. Since his tryst with Liam, he had seen the rest of that night and then a day and then another night and then another day. During that time, Liam and he had provisioned the _Herne_ and hired a crew, one that made the ship a very model of an English privateer. He even managed to get Liam into an appropriate uniform, though it looked as if his captain would prefer to jump overboard rather than wear it.

Once they had crew on board, Nolan and Liam had had to act distant with each other. They couldn’t be sure yet which of the crew would end up being loyal to the ship and which of the crew would hurry back and report to the captain of the _Phobos._

As each day came to an end, Nolan had made a great show of telling the men that he had to return to his uncle’s house. Once there, he wolfed down a cold meal and changed into civilian clothes, so he could be out the door and head into the seamier sections of Saint Augustine.

Nolan understood that sometimes others might see him as skittish or fussy. They probably weren’t wrong about it, yet that didn’t mean that he wasn’t observant. He had a good mind, he believed, and he could work very hard when it was required of him. For example, while Corey had been setting up their trip from St. Thomas to the Florida coast, Nolan had listened very closely to anything the former smuggler had had to say. So he remembered where the smugglers and other wretches were supposed to congregate in St. Augustine. If someone from the _Baliza_ were trying to find a way to talk to Liam, they would start there.

He had spent four hours on the first night, walking up and down the streets. It hadn’t been the most productive effort, but he didn’t know the area, not really, so he had had to learn it. He marked the run-down taverns, the corroded inns, and the ramshackle hovels and vowed to have a better plan for his second night.

It turned out he didn’t need one. As the last light of the sun died in the West, he walked down what could laughingly be called the main road in that part of town, when suddenly a slave carrying a bundle of goods nearly ran straight into him.

“Pardon me!” He exclaimed, out of reflex. “I’m terribly sorry.”

The man dropped the bundle without a word and snatched Nolan by the shoulder, dragging him into what had to be the filthiest alley north of Havana. “You might be.”

“Mr. Boyd?” 

Boyd shook him a little. “Please try not to let the entire English navy know I’m here.”

Nolan felt relieved even while he was checking the entrances for people following him. “How do you come to be here?”

“You didn’t really think we wouldn’t be here to back up Liam, did you?”

“No.” Nolan shook his head, “And neither did he. I must say, you’re very good at remaining unobserved.”

“It’s not hard when you’re an African doing heavy labor,” Boyd grumbled. “Whites barely look at you.” 

Nolan winced.

“Where’s Liam?” The first mate of the _Baliza_ demanded.

“He’s on board the _Herne._ They made him captain and me his first mate.”

Boyd’s eyebrow raised. 

“Liam told me …” Nolan took a deep breath, steadying himself. “He told me to tell you that he’s accepted both the commission and the letter of marque in order to figure out what Commodore Argent’s final plan will be. He wants Captain Scott and the _Baliza_ to stay clear until he finally discover it. It’s important that you don’t follow him.”

“Is that meant to convince me?”

“Huh? It is what he told me to tell you. He says he’s safe and in a good spot.” 

Boyd crossed his arms. “And what do you say?”

“Me?”

“There’s no one else in this alley.”

Nolan suddenly found Boyd’s feet the most interesting thing in the known universe. His clumsy words had sabotaged his own attempt to achieve Liam’s goals. It didn’t bother him as much as it should have. Liam wanted to protect his friends from treachery, but Nolan didn’t share the same priorities. He wanted his captain safe. 

“I say that Captain Dunbar means well, but I also think that he mistakes the strength of his position. He may not be quite so secure.”

“From … what?”

Loyalty can take many forms on a ship. Sometimes, it can even be mutiny. He told Boyd all about the commodore’s plans.


	9. The Pirate Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Nolan follow the British anti-pirate squadron into battle off the coast of Louisiana.

The journey around the Florida peninsula had provided a test for the new captain and his new ship. As the squadron skirted along the Keys, a hurricane bore down upon them. They were able to race the leading edge of the storm, escaping between the islands and along the vast swamp in this part of Florida. The squadron was forced to race away in front of the storm like deer being pursued by a predator. As always, the _Phobos_ took the lead, its pristine bow slicing through the waves like a newly-forged blade.

Liam pushed the crew to keep up with the flagship and her captain. He ran the crew through their paces as only someone who had served as a boatswain before could manage. The _Herne_ responded by surging forward when it caught the slightest gust of wind.

“What are you doing?” Nolan had asked during one such incident which had brought them within shouting distance of the flagship.

“Probably nothing wise,” his captain had responded with an enigmatic smile.

“It looks like you’re challenging her.”

“Her being the _Phobos _or her being Captain Monroe?”__

__Nolan glanced at the larger ship as their corvette plowed through its wake. “Either. Both.”_ _

__“I don’t want the captain to think that I’m a fool, and I certainly don’t want her to think I’m a coward.” Liam jutted his chin out. “They’re trying to use me, so I’m going to remind Monroe every chance I get that they’ll have to be at their best to even try.”_ _

__The first mate smiled at the thought. “You’re insane.”_ _

__“You like that I am, though.”_ _

__“For some reason known only to God and His angels, I do.” Nolan looked at the horizon. “With this wind at our backs, it won’t be long before we reach the Hale island.”_ _

__Liam gestured for the helmsman to take the wheel back, and then he started down toward his cabin. He didn’t look back, confident that Nolan would be following. Once they got to the captain’s quarters, Liam poured two cups of rum._ _

__“You’re not nervous, are you?”_ _

__Nolan rolled his eyes. “I’m always nervous, especially before a battle. I know you’re braver than I, but the thought of cannon fire must make you a little concerned, doesn’t it?”_ _

__“One of the things I learned from Captain McCall is that fear is different than worry. Anyone could die in battle. We both know that. But if you’ve done all you can to prepare, then there’s nothing worry can do to make you one bit safer. So don’t, unless …”_ _

__“Unless?”_ _

__“Unless you think that the crew isn’t ready. That they don’t trust me.”_ _

__Nolan reached out and took Liam by the wrist. “To be honest? I don’t care about the crew.”_ _

__“Not a good attitude for a first mate to have.”_ _

__“I barley know them. For all I know, they could be spies down to a man. The only person I care about is you.” Nolan gripped the arm tight. “Maybe I’ll come to care about them in time.”_ _

__Liam brought his arm up and kissed the hand gripping his arm lightly. Nolan let go._ _

__“We’re ready, my friend. After all, while her plan is a good one, Monroe’s ultimate prize — the _Baliza_ — won’t be anywhere near this part of the world.”_ _

__The captain smiled, kissed him once again, and then went back up on deck. Nolan stared after him, regret tinging his features with shame._ _

____

**~*~**

“There’s the signal!” Liam watched Nolan run the deck while calling out. “Full sail, lads! Full sail!”

The dying sun had barely started to turn the waters of the Caribbean golden. Captain Monroe had kept the squadron a fair distance from the pirate stronghold, arranging them in close formation with precision orders. Her intent was that they would time their arrival for the first few moments of twilight. Most of the pirates would be on shore, eating dinner, getting drunk, or arranging whatever their entertainment for the evening would be. 

Of course, there were no stories of Peter Hale being an incompetent fool, so the Pirate King would have at least one ship manned and on alert. Liam estimated that with luck, they could damage every ship in Hale’s fleet before the pirates could mount any sort of defense. It would give the better-armed and better-maintained British squadron a serious advantage in the coming battle. If they were lucky, most of the fight would be over before they could be fired upon. It was a good plan.

The only thing about Monroe’s orders that had puzzled Liam and Nolan was an entire day they had spent sailing around in a circle. They had made good time before it, especially when pushed by the outer edge of the hurricane, but her orders had been clear. 

Liam counted the pirate ships in port through his spyglass as they came into view. “They’re all there. How did she know?”

“She must have a spy.” 

“A spy who can assure that the entire fleet will be present on a single day? That’s one hell of a spy.”

Nolan couldn’t answer, having taken the wheel personally in order to break the _Herne_ away from the squadron. Monroe had explained that as the smallest yet fastest ship, the _Herne_ would tarry at the very extreme of cannon range and be prepared to intercept if one of the pirate ships made a run for it. Again, it was a sensible facet of Monroe’s plan.

Tucking the telescope under his arm, Liam walked the canon line. The first broadside would be round shot to make sure they had taken the range, but after that they would be firing chain shot. Breaking masts and rigging would slow the pirate’s response even more. 

After finishing his check, Liam returned to where Nolan steered their course, pulling out the spyglass once again.

“I thought you said you weren’t worried.” Nolan joked.

“I’m not,” remarked Liam, but there was a seed of something unpleasant sprouting in his stomach. “I want to be prepared.” 

Nolan directed the ship closer to shore, giving them the best angle for the bombardment. Liam marked the locations of the other ships of the squadron. Glancing up to his deck, he saw that his men were tense but ready to go. He then trained the spyglass to the shore. While one of the target fleet was making sail, there was no other activity. No sign of any alarm.

“What the hell is going on?” Liam exclaimed, checking against to make sure he hadn’t missed it. “Their watch had to have seen us by now!”

Nolan pursed his lips. “That’s a good thing isn’t it?” 

“Yes, but I wonder.” Liam’s voice sounded frustrated to his own ears. He couldn’t imagine why he would be upset, especially as this battle looked to be a one-sided massacre. “The squadron’s nearly in position! At this rate, they’re going to be slaughtered.”

As if on cue, the loud boom of canon reached the _Herne_ , as the closer ships of the British squadron began their bombardment. 

“Ready!” Nolan shouted to the cannon crew. “Fire!”

**~*~**

The _Herne_ had fired three broadsides before Liam noticed what was happening. At first, he thought he had to be mistaken, but he took the time to study it, and it was true. The pirate vessel that had made it underway when they first attack — the one that had most obviously failed to alert the other pirates — had made it past the attacking navy ships and was sailing in their direction.

“Mister Holloway!” Liam cried. “Bring her about!”

Nolan spun the wheel and the ship slid around, heaving even in the shallow tide. 

“One of them is making a run for it. Switch your shot!” Liam shouted, rushing to a better vantage point. They must have taken sufficient damage so far to slow them down, slipping past the rest of the squadron. Holing their side would put an end to this without the necessity of a boarding. Boardings were always bloody affairs, every single time.

But the goal of this entire mission wasn’t to take the ships for their own. It was to destroy the fleet of the Pirate King Peter Hale and burn their despicable fortress down around his blood-thirsty gang’s ears. At least that had been the goal as it had been explained to him.

Watching the approaching pirate ship made him doubt that. Liam narrowed on the vessel and saw the flag of a skull with animal fangs and blood dripping off of them, and the figurehead of a charging wolf. It was the largest ship in their fleet, the ship commanded only by Peter Hale himself, the _Creature of Habit._

It seemed to have escaped the assault Monroe’s other ships totally unscathed. Liam couldn’t think of how that was even remotely possible. 

Never-the-less, the pirate flagship was heading straight toward the _Herne_. It had taken a straight course since the moment it got clear of the port. 

The _Creature of Habit_ used to be a former Dutch warship named the _Jupiter._ Hale had made his name by sneaking his men on board her as they lay at harbor, dispatching its crew, and claiming it for his own. Not as big as its British brethren due to the shallow draft of the waters near Rotterdam, this frigate was tough and fast. It had sixty-four guns, three times as many as Liam’s ship had.

And it was heading right toward them. He had been bothered by something but he couldn’t place what it was, but now it was clear. The _Creature of Habit_ wasn’t fleeing; she was attacking.

Liam rushed back to the helm and nearly knocked Nolan away. 

“What? Liam, what’s wrong?”

“I know who the spy in the Pirate King’s camp is!” Liam roared, spinning the wheel to bring his ship on its new course. He abandoned his orders and head toward the fleet. 

“Who?” Nolan steadied himself. He barked out orders to harness the wind, picking up on what his captain was trying to do.

“The Pirate King!”

The first cannot shot from the _Creature_ splashed just off the starboard side. 

At almost any other time, the _Herne_ should have gotten away free. It had the advantage of the wind, advantage of position, and the advantage of being a faster and lighter ship. Yet, escape turned out to be impossible. As nimble as such a ship could be, it takes time to redirect such momentum. The third-rate pirate vessel’s momentum was in its favor, rushing to close.

Captain Hale was also far older and more experienced than Captain Dunbar. There were things that could only be taught by experience, and the pirate king had twenty years on Liam easily. They had been years full of battles, of tricks and savagery. He also had his hand-picked crew on board the _Creature of Habit_ , while this was still the first voyage of the _Herne_ with a brand new captain and a crew that had never worked before.

Liam had had his epiphany five breaths after it was too late to evade the noose. 

There was no stopping Hale’s first broadside. Thirty-two cannons staved in the side of the ship at the waterline. Like the British, the _Creature of Habit_ wasn’t looking for a prize of a ship; it planned to send the corvette to the bottom of the ocean. 

Nolan rushed to the deck to measure the damage as other sailors cried. “We’re holed!” There was no stopping that damage. He looked up to Liam, their eyes met, and then disappeared below decks. But it was too late, Nolan and the others might be able to slow the sinking of the vessel, but they couldn’t stop it.

Liam pulled hard on the rudder, which thank the Lord, was still working. He’d get the ship as close to land as possible. Hopefully the men could swim to shore. 

But Hale was not yet done. As Liam struggled to get the boat to respond, he saw the pirate ship tack sharply, aiming for another broadside, only this one was not pointed at the water line but at the deck itself. 

“Grapeshot,” he breathed. “Take cover!”

It was too late. The noise deafened Liam, the retort of the enemy’s canons and the sound of the shot tearing through the rigging and the railing and the flesh of his crew. He heard the screams, smelt the smoke and the tang of blood. Shaking his head, he tried to stand, only to realize he’d been hit. His leg hung there, a bloody mess.

**~*~**

“What was that?” Nolan cried, standing in water that was even now reaching his knees, as he heard a whistling above deck.

The ship’s carpenter, one of the oldest men onboard, hefted his mallet. “Canister shot. It’ll be a horror up on deck.”

Nolan had been in battles before, but they hadn’t been so close. Great flotillas smashing against each other had a very different feel. Nothing like the quick brutality of a pirate action. 

“Mr. Holloway, sir,” the old man stopped in mid swing. “You’ll need to lower the boats. We’re going down; St. Peter himself couldn’t stop it now.”

The words sounded distant in his ears. They had stopped working after he had started imagining the bloodshed on deck. When the carpenter shook him, he snapped out of it. 

“Do it. Find everyone below decks and get them to the top.” 

“You go too, sir. We’ve got maybe ten minutes top.”

The man shuffled off, but Nolan felt paralyzed even as the ship sank around him. He didn’t know where he wanted to go; his hands spasmed and his heart raced. It seemed far easier to let the water take him than to go up and see Liam’s corpse. Cannon-fire didn’t care if you were the captain or a cabin boy. His imagination pictured the captain’s body with half its head missing.

“Go,” he muttered, Move. Now.”

As he went up, he heard the retorts of muskets. They must have been boarded, but that didn’t make any sense! Why fire to sink and then board the ship anyway? Nolan readied his own musket, creeping up the stairs as ship began to list. 

His heart stopped beating again when he heard Liam’s voice shouting, tinged with fury.

“You betrayed your own men!” 

The answering voice was snide. “They were pirates. Low men without scruples.”

“You’re a pirate!”

“Exactly.” There was a gasp from Liam as someone jerked him up. “Easy, my boys. We wouldn’t want to hurt our bait before we’ve hooked the fish!” 

Nolan poked his head over the side. The crew of the _Herne_ were either dead or over the side. On the deck of the _Creature of Habit_ , two burly looking pirates held Liam up between them. Bandages had hastily been tied around his blood-soaked leg.

“I’m not bait.” Though in immense pain, Liam gritted his teeth.

“Oh, but you are! You were one of the great Captain McCall’s crew, and he’ll speed to your rescue.” The man, Peter Hale, laughed grimly. “And when he comes, I’ll sink his ship like I sank yours, and then I’ll sail off into the sunset with his body swinging on my yardarm! You see, in exchange for my assistance with this small matter, Captain Monroe has promised to tell everyone that the Great Peter Hale was killed in battle.”

“So you’re a liar _and_ a traitor.”

“Obviously,” Peter grinned. “But I’m not a simpleton. The heyday of piracy is over. Once the Americans win their revolution all these busy navies will have nothing to do but descend upon the few remaining pirate havens like crows on a carcass. By that time, my men will be proper merchants, and I’ll have retired to an enormous tract of land my daughter is buying right this instant in the Spanish colony of California. Maybe I’ll even found a city. But even a man of my intelligence has weaknesses; I will not let that snotty mestizo brat sail into history as some sort of hero. So even as I ‘die’, he will die, you will die, and everyone, even the Crippled Argent will roll around happy.”

Nolan gritted his teeth. He no longer regretted spilling the truth to Boyd, because now the _Baliza_ was Liam’s only hope. What could Nolan do? He was simply a midshipman who shook in fear over imagined monsters. 

Liam looked pale. “You shouldn’t trust her.”

“Of course I don’t, child. What she doesn’t know is that a Spanish squadron is on its way.” A cry was given in the rigging of the pirate ship. “Is that them? Or is it him? Either way so prompt!” He chuckled. “To your stations!” 

The men sprang to get the _Creature_ ready, breaking their watch. Peter snatched his own glass up, scanning the horizon. A battle between Nolan’s nerves and his soul continued until the last moment, until the very thews of his heart ached, before he dashed forward, leaping from the sinking _Herne_ and onto the enemy ship. Several men cried out, but before anyone could react, Nolan had leveled the gun on Captain Hale.

“Who have we here?” His voice was jocular but his eyes sharp and calculating.

“You’ll let Captain Dunbar go now!” 

Captain Hale smirked. “Kill me, and you’ll never leave this ship alive.”

“Yes, sir,” Nolan said, finding strength to hold the gun as steady as a rock. “But you’ll never see California.” 

The former pirate king studied Nolan. He must have seen something in his eyes. “I hate surprises.” He gestured sharply and the two men holding Liam let him go.

“Can you walk?”

“Hell, yes,” Liam almost snarled, but he couldn’t move very fast. “Why didn’t you flee with the others?”

Nolan rolled his eyes. He didn’t dignify that with an answer. Liam stumbled to him, and draped himself around his shoulders. 

“Now what?” Peter demanded, looking calmly down the barrel of the musket. 

“Do you trust me, captain?” 

Liam tapped him lightly on the ear, responding to a stupid question. 

Nolan leapt backward, falling over the rail, and pulling Liam with him.


	10. Horizon's Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of our tale. Will Nolan and Liam have a future together?

Nolan had not had a plan when he challenged a ship full of pirates. He had not thought it through at all. He had only felt the burning need to get Liam away from Peter Hale, to get him off the deck of the pirate king’s ship. When he had begged Liam to trust him, he had meant that he hoped that Liam trusted Nolan’s feelings for him were strong and deep. It had _not_ meant that what Nolan had chosen to do wasn’t going to get both of them killed.

In fact, Nolan couldn’t even managed to fall right. If he had been thinking rationally, he would have let go of Liam as they fell so they could angle their bodies better. Yet, the thought of releasing his captain hadn’t even occurred to him, so they struck the ocean between the sinking _Herne_ and the _Creature of Habit_ with a sharp slap. The sting was sharp and immediate, but it faded for him almost immediately.

The Caribbean in August was as warm as bathwater, but Nolan hadn’t imagined the peacefulness of just a few feet under the waves. Above, men were dying, yet below there was nothing but the strange floating nature of another world. He turned to Liam, still firmly in his gasp, only to see the water turning red around his leg.

Now the urge to talk came to him, to find out if Liam was well, so he kicked twice, flailing with one arm, and they breached the surface together. Air tinged with gunpowder’s acrid scent filled his lungs. Beside him, Liam let a scream come out between clenched teeth. He was pale.

“Liam? Are you well?”

“No. There’s sea water in my wound!” Liam ground out. “We need to get out of here.”

“You won’t!” At that voice, they looked up to see Captain Hale above them. “Boys, fish Captain Dunbar out, and kill the other fool. First one to put a ball through his stupid face gets a doubloon.”

Nolan and Liam looked at each other. As the first musket fire struck the water near Nolan’s shoulder, they each took a deep breath and plunged beneath the water.

They swam together, diving down to avoid the pirates’ wrath, and Nolan directed Liam under the _Herne_ ’s hull. It was slow going, even with the calm water. The natural buoyancy of their clothes kept trying to pull them up until they got so thoroughly water-logged that they tried to pull them down. Liam couldn’t swim very well with his right leg well night useless.

But they managed and emerged up on the other side over the crazily listing ship. Nolan finally shifted his grip to see how Liam was doing.

“Speak to me.”

“I didn’t think we were going to make it.”

Nolan smiled. “Of course we would make it, captain.”

“You didn’t need to come.”

“Superior officer or not, I will smack you if you ever say something like that to me ever again.”

Liam coughed some water out of his lungs, but he leaned forward and put his head on Nolan’s shoulder, taking some of the weight off. “You’re a terrible first mate. You’re supposed to put the ship and the crew first.”

Nolan used the slowly sinking hull of the _Herne_ to steady himself. He had to think of what to do next. The ship was going down, and when it did, it was going to leave them open to Hale. The shore was much too far away to reach, especially with Liam’s wounds. He offered some banter to keep their spirits up. “You will always be the first person I save. What ridiculous captain taught you otherwise?”

Liam tightened his grip on Nolan’s shoulder; twisting his body, even though it must have pained him greatly, he forced Nolan to face outward. “That one.”

Surging over the waves, coming in from an oblique angle to the ongoing naval battle, the _Baliza_ galloped in under full sail. Its cannon roared, challenging the _Creature of Habit_ with a volley. Faintly, Nolan could hear Captain Hale cursing and order the ship to be brought about. 

“We need to do more than tread water!” Liam cried. 

“You’re hurt. We need to sit right here in cover.”

The hulk of the _Herne_ groaned as it continued to slip under the water. Nolan could hear bulkheads giving way, doors flying open. It wouldn’t be too long now.

Liam had definitely heard it, too. “The cover is not going to last forever.” 

Nolan tried to think. Liam needed out of the water; they needed to be on the _Baliza_ , but he couldn’t imagine a way for them to reach her. His mind searched desperately. Perhaps too desperately, because he didn’t hear the groaning snap of wood nor see one of the few remaining yards plunge loose from its mast. Like a pronouncement of doom, the beam and its rigging dropped upon them, plunging them both beneath the waves once again.

**~*~**

Nolan did not recognize the bed in which he lay or the room around it when he finally woke again. It was a ship’s cabin, and a pretty large one. It must have been night, for the room was lit by a single lantern. He made the mistake of looking at it for too long, and then he made a second mistake by trying to lift his head.

He had never realized it was possible to have shooting pain and dizziness at the same time. The sensations were too much. He lurched, leaning over the bed, and by the blessing of Providence, a bucket stood near. He made use of it. 

“I’m amazed,” Boyd said from the corner in which he sat upon a barrel. “I wouldn’t have imagined your body could produce so much vomit.”

Now that Boyd mentioned it, Nolan’s mouth did taste terrible. He wiped at it with a sleeve of a shirt that he found was surprisingly dry and did not smell of seawater. 

“Where am I?”

“In the captain’s cabin on the _Baliza._ Scott insisted that we put you in here.” 

“How long …” Nolan pulled himself up and groaned. “How long have I been unconscious?” 

“Ten hours.” The African stood up. “Be careful. We think you are concussed. You’ve been slipping in and out for most of that time.”

“I don’t remember waking up before.”

“You seemed to wake up just long enough to vomit.” 

“You don’t sound very sympathetic.”

Boyd shrugged. “I had to empty the bucket. Be happy; it’s a good sign that you can hold a conversation.”

Nolan’s head still throbbed but the room had ceased to spin. “What happened during the battle?”

“Well, as far as we can tell, you had your ship blown out from under you by that bastard, so we ran at him, caught his ship on fire, scooped you two out of the water and then fled.”

“You … you didn’t sink him?”

The first mate shook his head. “That wasn’t what we were here for. We were here to rescue you, and perhaps Hale’s daughter. But Liam told the captain that Malia was in California, Hale had boasted of it. That man always did like to move his lips.”

“Oh, given their history, I would have thought . . .”

“The captain puts no value on revenge, as he puts no value on the amount of blood spilled. We came for Liam and, I guess, for you, since you’re with Liam.” 

“Liam!” Nolan struggled to sit up. “He was wounded. Where is he now?”

Boyd frowned, but he wasn’t a nurse to try to hold Nolan down. “You’re wounded, too.”

“I don’t care.”

The first mate stood up. “He’s on shore. He needed better attention than we could give him here.”

“On shore? With all the soldiers and the pirates?” Nolan staggered to the door.

The first mate stepped forward slapped him on the side of the head and Nolan went down like a sack of potatoes with its bottom cut open.

“Whoops. Probably shouldn’t have done that. We’re in New Orleans. The moment the captain saw Liam’s wounds, we set a course for here.”

Nolan tried to stand and couldn’t quite make it. He crawled, most undignified, until the wall. “I must go and see him.”

“I think not.”

“Am I a prisoner?”

Boyd sighed manfully. He took Nolan by the shoulders and steered him back to the bed. “You’re a patient. You are to remain here until they return. Captain’s orders.”

“He’s not my captain!” Pulling himself up along the wall, Nolan tried to stand up straight.

“Don’t be a fool. I could knock you over by breathing on you. Even if you could somehow get off the ship, do you even know your way around New Orleans? Do you speak Spanish? French? Creole? And even if you found him, are you a doctor? Lay down.”

Nolan felt anger surge but it made the room spin again so he laid down. “Could I have a bit to eat?”

Boyd disappeared as Nolan got back on the bed. He couldn’t go back to sleep, but he did feel very weak. The first mate came back with some hardtack, some dried plantains, and some rum. Rum had never been his drink, but it was good to wash the taste from his mouth.

It might have been another two hours when a sailor shouted out the door. “The captain’s back!”

Nolan rushed up to the deck, Boyd following very closely to make sure he didn’t overdo it, but no one tried to stop him. When he got up there, Captain Scott McCall was coming up the gangplank, and two of his crew were carrying a litter on which Liam was reclining. His eyes were closed; he wasn’t awake. 

His feet froze into place. What was wrong?

Scott gestured for both of them to come over. “He’s going to live, Mr. Holloway, but you’ll have to take care of him for a while.”

All sorts of terror flooded through his mind. “I will, but why?”

“They could not save the leg. They tried their best.”

~*~

Two weeks later, Liam made his way to the bow of the ship. The wooden peg that the ship’s carpenter had made for him was worse than not having a leg at all. It hurt so much, rubbing him raw, to the point where he cried when he took it off and cried when he put it on, which he only did now in Nolan’s presence. At other times, he tottered around like a senile old man or worse a toddler who first started walking. He was only able to make it across the deck now because one hand grasped the railing and the other was gripped tightly by Nolan.

There was a dark smudge on the horizon, which had to be the port of Veracruz unless Scott’s navigation had steered them far astray. The _Baliza_ had kept close to the coast and to the dominions of Spain, seeking to avoid any entanglements with their enemies. They were going to talk to the Governor about becoming a merchant ship on the Pacific Coast of the Americas. The captain also wanted to visit his mother. 

Scott had sat down next to him and explained in patient words that he had made his decision while the surgeon had been taking the rest of Liam’s right leg below the knee. He had no more interest in war. Peter Hale had vanished into the West and Monroe had slunk back to St. Augustine. The Argents might hatch more schemes, but they had other things to worry about if Scott was elsewhere. He would take the people he loved and leave.

Apparently that included him. And by extension, Nolan. 

Slow and clumsy, Liam finally made it to the bow. Others had told him that given time, he’d be able to climb into the rigging like he had always enjoyed and as nimbly as he had mastered it, but he had a hard time seeing that. 

“You’ll get back up there,” Nolan intruded into his silence.

“How did you know what I was thinking about?”

“Because you were staring at the rigging? You are not that complex a man, Liam Dunbar.”

“Ha, ha.”

The wind was at their backs so now and again the spray from a cresting wave would reach their legs, fake one and real ones, dangling over the water. 

“What do you want to do?” Nolan asked. 

“I thought I would stay out here until the watch change. I can’t convince Boyd to let me go back on active duty.”

“You need to recover your strength, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Liam had been avoiding that question because he didn’t have a real answer. He also had been avoiding that questions because he didn’t want to hear Nolan’s answer to the same thing. He had been able to imagine a life on the _Herne_ , but that ship was now a shipwreck.

“I know.”

Nolan didn’t say anything after that; he started kicking his legs up as the ocean sped past beneath them. 

Liam appreciated that Nolan didn’t press, but this was like scraping barnacles off the hull. Tedious but necessary. 

“I want to stay on board.”

“The _Baliza._ ”

“It doesn’t have to be the _Baliza,_ ” Liam wasn’t sure if it counted as a lie or not. He’d been captain for a week; he’d enjoyed command. But now, he was different. He could barely walk. It didn’t matter here, among the people he trusted, among the people he loved, but on a new ship with a new crew? He wasn’t ready. 

“I think sailing here is a good thing. Until you get back on your … foot.” Nolan awkwardly finished the sentence. He and Liam looked at each other and then burst into laughter. 

“Would you stay?”

“Would Captain Scott want me to stay?”

Liam slugged him on the arm. “He’s an enormous sentimental fool. You kept me alive in the water, so now he wants us to marry and have children.” 

“Children?” Nolan exclaimed.

Liam nodded, grinning impishly. After a few moments though, Liam did put a hand on Nolan’s arm. He gripped it tightly as if he wasn’t willing to let Nolan go. “Though in all seriousness, there’s a place for you here. I know it’s not what you wanted.”

“I told you what I wanted.”

“You wanted to see the world and you wanted someone to show you.”

“Yes. Someone I can trust.”

“But you also didn’t want to disappoint your family.” Liam thought about his own family; if they did move to the Pacific, he might never see them again. 

“I really don’t think that can be avoided now. Technically, I’m a deserter.”

“Technically.”

“They are so far away, Liam. What they think is important is even farther away. I know what I consider important now, and it doesn’t match in the slightest what they want.” Nolan said it sadly and slowly. “I may never see England or home again, and, if I’m to be frank, this realization does not bring the pain that I had once though it must.”

Liam blinked slowly at him and then turned away. “I love you, too.”

The _Baliza_ cut through a towering wave, the spray coating the deck and their faces. Nolan wiped his face and then Liam’s, and they turned to the sunset, waiting for what would come next over the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome all criticism as long as it is focused on the characters, plot, cultural sensitivity, and writing of this story. Please don't bring in my other works or commentary. I especially appreciate having typos and grammatical mistakes pointed out.


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